Now and Then
by nubianamy
Summary: Donutverse #5: Kurt is sad. Finn is sad. Puck helps them find a way to be happy. Singing ensues. Takes place alternately in flashbacks, and during episode 1.10 Ballad.
1. Chapter 1

Then: Last Week

"I just can't fathom wanting to play video games all day, Finn." Kurt, curled up in the center of the L-shaped couch, nudged Finn's feet out of the way. "I mean, I can hold my own in Rock Band with the best of them, but honestly, what are you getting out of pushing two buttons with your thumbs all afternoon?"

Finn moved his feet back into Kurt's lap and poked him in the belly, inspiring some very unladylike snorts from Kurt, while maintaining his focus on the TV screen. "It's not about pushing buttons, Kurt," he said. "It's about being in an alternate world, telling a story. Like in creative writing."

"I hate creative writing," Kurt said icily. He picked up Finn's feet and pointedly dropped them off the edge of the couch.

"Yeah, but you said that's because Mr. Burton has terrible taste in clothes."

"Well, he does!"

"Plus video games are good for hand-eye coordination," he pointed out. This time he dug his feet beneath Kurt's thigh. Kurt glared at Finn's toes buried under his butt, but didn't comment or push him away.

"Do you even know what hand-eye coordination is?" Kurt asked, caustically. Finn didn't bother to answer that.

"Kids who play video games are less violent. I read a study on Facebook."

"Which is such a paragon of educational veracity," Kurt smirked.

"Now, that, I didn't understand," Finn said solemnly, and wiggled his toes under Kurt's behind. Kurt shifted, glancing up through his lashes at Finn, and turned a page in his book.

"Wouldn't school be better if it were more like video games?" he pressed. "What if we could play video games to make us smarter? Like, one world for each class. One for math, one for American history…"

"I guess Glee could be like Rock Band," Kurt said, setting his book down again. "But wouldn't it be lonely without seeing everybody?"

"We could stay home and sit on the couch together all day," Finn said, and suddenly he was right there next to Kurt, the video game forgotten, and his hands were under Kurt's shirt, stroking his smooth chest. Kurt sighed and let Finn take his shirt off.

"I guess I can see the advantage in that," Kurt said, his head rolling back on the cushion as Finn licked his left nipple. He moaned a little and shifted his hips, and Finn obliged by moving to the right nipple. When he slipped a hand under Kurt's waistband and rubbed the small of his back, Kurt gasped and drew Finn up to his mouth for a kiss.

"All the kids I know who were homeschooled are a little unusual, though," Kurt said. "Are you sure that would agree with you?"

Finn considered this. "I think it would be worth it if I could play video games all day," he decided. He scooped Kurt up, causing him to yelp, and plopped him down in his lap. Kurt rested his head on Finn's shoulder and sighed contentedly. "Plus?" Finn planted a kiss on Kurt's nose. "Unusual can be pretty good, sometimes."

Now: After School

Kurt waited by his locker for an extra minute, checking his hair and packing and repacking and re-repacking his bag, before sighing and slamming the locker door shut.

"What's up, Hummel?"

Kurt spun to see Puck leaning on the locker wall beside him. "Noah," he said, nodding. "I got your text. Absolution. Pretty cryptic."

Puck shrugged, then smiled, looking at his shoes. "I kind of guessed you'd figure it out, with your powers of intuition."

"So I take it Mr. Hudson forgave you the last indiscretion?"

"Better." Puck's eyes gleamed. "He made it all right."

Puck arched an eyebrow at Puck. "And just how did he do that?"

"I don't think it's something I should talk about at school," Puck muttered, looking around the hall at passing witnesses to their conversation. Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled Puck into the men's room. He checked each stall, then pulled out his stolen master key and locked the door.

"Okay, Noah," Kurt gestured. "I've been looking for Finn all day and he hasn't been around, so I'm resorting to you for details. Go on, dish."

"Finn didn't come to school?" Puck grinned. "I think I wore him out." Kurt's eyes got round, and Puck relented. "I told him about Quinn and the baby right away. Well, right after I told him about you. He –"

"You told him what about me?" Kurt interrupted.

"That some guys beat you up."

"You didn't need to tell him that!"

Puck crossed his arms. "I thought my assignment was to be truthful, Doc. Well, I did that."

"How did he take it?" Kurt sounded only vaguely interested.

"Well, he said he needed to find some way to stop those guys, and I said –"

"Noah," Kurt said impatiently, "I'm talking about the baby. Remember? The whole reason for going over there? How did he take it?"

"He was pretty pissed off. I asked him how I could make it better, and he… well, I suggested he could… hit me."

"Oh my god," Kurt gasped. "You didn't! What did he do?"

"He didn't want to. But, you know, I think he kind of did. I think he just didn't want to be like my—I mean, he didn't want to be mean. I told him it wasn't going to hurt me, it would make it better."

Kurt opened, then closed his mouth. "Did it?"

"Oh, he didn't hit me." Puck was smug. "He kissed me. It was totally hot."

"I bet," said Kurt, sounding faint. "Um, did the – the kissing help, then?"

"You know, it wasn't exactly the kissing," Puck said, hopping up on the counter. "It was – the way Finn was. Forceful. In control. He grabbed me, told me what to do. Made me –" Puck looked at Kurt, who was staring at Puck hungrily. "Uh, Kurt? You okay?"

"Fine," Kurt said, turning red. "What did he… make you do?"

"Keep my hands above my head."

Kurt looked confused. "Like this?" he said, raising his hands in a "goal!" gesture.

"No, like this," Puck said, grabbing Kurt's wrists in one hand and forcing them above his head, back onto the cinder block wall. Kurt gasped and bit his lower lip.

"Then what?" Kurt whispered, inches from Puck's mouth.

Puck grinned, devastatingly, and raked his eyes down Kurt's body, then back up. "He jerked me off."

Kurt let out an involuntary moan. Puck let his hands go and stepped back. "It was amazing. Then, I freaked out, but he was awesome, he just made me calm right down. I've never felt so – so _good,_ so _myself." _

"I'm happy for you," Kurt said softly, straightening his shirt.

"No, you're not," said Puck.

Kurt stiffened. "I don't know what you—"

"Anyone can see you're unhappy, Kurt. And I'm not just anyone. Remember? You're part of this now."

"I don't see how I could possibly be part of anything," Kurt said.

Puck nodded. "Well, I guess that's up to Finn."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Noah, I feel like we're having two different conversations."

"I think you should go talk to Finn," Puck said. "Tell him how you feel. Look how it worked for me!" Puck's face split in a huge, breathtaking smile. _It was quite unlike him,_ Kurt thought, _but very becoming._

"You look… incredibly happy," Kurt acknowledged. "But I really don't think it's going to end up the same way for me."

"Could it make things worse?" Puck raised an eyebrow. "Hey, how did it go when you told your dad about what happened after school yesterday?"

Kurt pressed his lips together and said nothing. Puck nodded smugly. "I thought so. You talk big, Hummel, but you're not so good at following your own advice."

Kurt still said nothing. Two fat tears made tracks down his cheeks and down to his chin. He closed his eyes and waited for Puck to leave. Instead, he felt gentle hands on his chin, wiping the tears away, and then warm, strong arms enfolding him. He began to cry.

"It's going to be all right, Kurt," Puck said. "Hang in there."

"God, why can't I stop crying?" Kurt took the toilet paper wad proffered by Puck and blew his nose. "This is totally sabotaging my moisturizing routine."

"You really don't want to talk to Finn, do you?" Kurt miserably shook his head. Puck sighed, frustrated. "Well, I don't know how to make you. I guess you'll just have to go home and eat that chocolate mousse I made for you last night."

Kurt smiled through his tears. "How did you know I didn't already eat it?"

Puck grinned. "Because you didn't tell me how awesome it was," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Then: Three Days Before (at The Diva-Off)

"Wanna stop for pizza on the way home today?" Finn offered, standing with Kurt in the alcove outside the choir room before Glee rehearsal.

Kurt held his flat stomach with a disgusted expression. "How can you talk about food at a time like this?" he moaned. "Don't you ever get stage fright?"

Finn looked embarrassed, then gave Kurt a hug. "Don't worry, man. You'll do great. Everybody thinks you're a shoe-in for the solo."

Kurt sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, Rachel has a better voice than me. My only chance to win it is through the force of my personality and possibly psychic intervention."

"What is this song about, anyway?" Finn watched as students walked by, oblivious to their presence. _This is a great hiding place,_ thought Finn. "Defining gravity? Isn't gravity a force that pulls things down?"

"_Defying_ Gravity, Finn," said Kurt, and it must be said his voice was a little shrill. "Sometimes I forget that just because you have so much god-given natural talent doesn't mean you know anything about Broadway."

"You… think I'm talented?" Finn smiled shyly at Kurt.

Kurt stopped his tirade to wrap reassuring arms around Finn's middle. "You're amazing," he said.

"Not as amazing as you," Finn said seriously.

"_As I was saying_," Kurt went on, turning pink, "Defying Gravity is the signature song from the musical _Wicked,_ which probably deserves an entire afternoon devoted to analyzing the soundtrack – " (Finn sighed quietly at this, but continued listening) "- but it's also much more than that. It's been adopted by gay pride organizations all over the country for representing the ideas of freedom, self-expression and unlimited potential."

"Sounds awesome," Finn said.

Kurt smiled thinly. "Just listen to the words when we sing. You'll see. The song speaks for itself." He pointed. "Oh, there's Rachel. Quick, distract her with your charms. Tell her you're rooting for her, okay?"

"Uh, okay," Finn agreed, and did as Kurt asked. And he listened.

He heard Kurt's impeccable confidence in himself, and in his voice. He heard Kurt singing of not playing by the rules, and how it was too late to go back to sleep. He heard of trusting his instincts, and not accepting limits, and kissing him goodbye (Finn didn't like that part), and how nothing would bring him down. He was polished and shiny and adorable. He was Kurt.

By the time the song had ended, bungled high F notwithstanding, Finn thought he might have fallen a little bit in love with him.

Now: That Evening

Finn was surprised how glad he felt to see Kurt on the porch when he opened the door. "Hi there," he smiled. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"How are you feeling?" Kurt said, looking around as he stepped into Finn's small foyer. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"I'm fine. No, my mom and I were just watching a rerun of Babylon 5," he said, taking Kurt's sweater and hanging it carefully in the closet (he knew Kurt felt very attached to that sweater). "Have you seen that show? It's awesome."

"Kurt? Is that you?" Carole Hudson came out of the den, saw Kurt, and smiled as big as Finn had. "What a nice surprise. C'mon, sit with us, Londo's just about to contract Mr. Morden."

"I'd love to, Carole, but Finn and I have something to discuss." Kurt made no move to enter the den, so Carole said goodbye and left them alone.

"What's up?" Finn was uneasy about the expression on Kurt's face. "Do you want some –"

"I just thought we should clear up the status of our relationship before things go any further," Kurt said.

"Oh," said Finn.

"Finn, I'm really, really happy for you and – your sweetheart," Kurt said, flickering a glance toward the den. "I hope it is everything you were hoping it would be."

"Um, thanks," he said, smiling a little, but Kurt went on.

"And just so there's no confusion, my friendship and affection for you is the same as it was yesterday, and the day before, and so on."

"That's nice," Finn said, still confused.

"But I think it's important for you to focus on this new relationship, rather than let any friendship or – other things – you have with me get in the way."

"Um." Finn looked at Kurt, the light dawning. He opened his mouth, and his lip trembled a little. "Are you—are you breaking up with me?"

"You can't break up with someone if you never were dating them to begin with," Kurt said firmly. "This is better, Finn. You deserve everything from your partner, no matter if it's a boy or a girl, and I want you to be happy."

Finn closed his mouth, and nodded, looking troubled, but not arguing.

"Did you talk with… him today?" He shook his head, and Kurt clucked disapproval. "This isn't the time to let him get away. You need to call him up."

"Okay."

Kurt stepped forward, took his hand quickly, gave it a squeeze – Finn remembered how Kurt had done that on the night of their first kiss together, just a few weeks ago – and then dropped it equally quickly. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Yeah," said Finn, looking miserable. "Good night, Kurt."


	3. Chapter 3

Then: Last Wednesday

Quinn pulled the hospital gown down over her gently curving stomach and grimaced. "That goop they put on is always too hot or too cold," she complained.

Finn rubbed her shoulder sympathetically, still looking at the sonogram video in his hand. "That was pretty incredible," he said softly, touching the photo of his pre-baby girl stuck to the front of the video case.

"I don't know. She's inside me, and I still don't know what to think about her." Quinn put a hand on her abdomen. "Whoa. I think she's doing karate in there. Feel right here." She grabbed Finn's hand and placed it right under her navel on the left side. For a minute, Finn wasn't sure if he could feel something, but then – a definite _bump,_ a little drum beat, and then another. _Thump, thump thump. _

His face split in a goofy, ridiculous grin. "Hey," he said. "She's playing the drums." He knelt between Quinn's legs and put his head up against her belly. "Can I call her Thumper?"

"No, and get out of there," she hissed, hitting his head away, but he put his ear up to her belly momentarily, hoping to catch a sound to take away.

"Sorry," he shrugged, standing. "So, she does that a lot now, huh?"

"I feel it every now and then," Quinn said. "It's pretty common at 20 weeks."

"Does it hurt?"

"Only when she kicks my bladder and I feel like I have to piss myself," she said, and Finn laughed to hear a crass word like "piss" come out of Quinn Fabray's mouth.

"Thanks for letting me come today," he said. "Can I buy my little girl a frozen yogurt?"

"That's my Finn," she said, smiling her stunning smile as she got her coat. "Always thinking with his stomach."

Now: Thursday Evening

Finn's small room seemed uncomfortably cramped. He moved a pile of papers off his bed to make room for his history homework, then pushed a basket of clothes over to the side so he could uncover his laptop. He thought irritably of Kurt's basement room with the big green couch, and how he wished he could just drive over there and sit with Kurt and do his homework. They didn't even need to do anything else. He'd grown familiar to Finn, had quickly become a fixture in his life, and it was uncomfortable with the connection so abruptly cut off. He felt… what was it? Morose? Ennui?

He felt fucking lonely, that was it.

He'd texted Puck to say hi, but there had been no response, which wasn't all that unusual. Puck and his phone were only passing friends. If Finn really needed him – and he thought it might turn out that tonight, he would – he could walk the three blocks to his house and pebble his window until Puck came outside. But for now, he was alone.

He thought how a week ago, he could have called Quinn to go out to the movies or get a burger – she was much more receptive to fast food since she'd gotten kicked off the Cheerios. But now, he wasn't sure what to do about her. He felt angry that she'd lied to him, but even more than that, he was aware that there was a hole in his world, a tiny baby-sized hole that had been his little girl, his Thumper. And now she wasn't really his anymore, never had actually been his to begin with.

He opened his laptop and slid in the DVD with the sonogram, and sat and watched it for a few minutes, thinking of what Kurt had said about singing a song to express your feelings. He touched the screen with two fingers, leaning in, and began to sing:

_Isn't she lovely_

_Isn't she wonderful_

_Isn't she precious_

_Less than one minute old_

_I never thought through love we'd be_

_Making one as lovely as she_

_But isn't she lovely made from love_

"Finn?" He hadn't heard his mother coming, but now she was standing in his doorway, staring at him on the bed, touching the screen and singing. She came in slowly and sat beside him on the bed. "Were you… singing to a sonogram?"

"Uh-huh," he said.

His mom was silent for a moment. "Finn… is Quinn pregnant?"

And he crumpled, he lost it, crying into his mom's shirt like he hadn't in years, crying the loss of the relationship with Quinn, and the loss of his Thumper, and the father he wouldn't be. She held him, rocked him and shushed him, not understanding, thinking the worst, but he thought, _no, it's worse than that, Mom, it's so much worse. I never knew I was in love with her until I lost her. Now I'll never have her. _

"Mom… Quinn's pregnant, but… it's not my baby."

His mother opened her mouth to ask, then thought better of it and just looked at him with love. "Do you want to talk about it?"

This was what was so great about his mom. Finn knew she would listen to anything he had to say, without judgment, without expecting anything from him except for him to be who he was. He knew she would be surprised to hear about Puck – and Kurt – but would be honestly accepting. He knew this, but wasn't ready to face it. "Not yet, mom," he said. "But when I'm ready, I'll let you know."

She nodded, kissed him on the forehead, and gently closed his door, leaving him alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Now: Late Wednesday/Early Thursday (the night of Puck's first visit)

Finn made the bed and piled the dirty sheets next to the bed, remembering the frequency with which he'd done this act over the past few weeks. His mind was reeling that the inspiration for those dirty sheets, the impossible star of his sexual fantasies, was about to sleep with him in his bed.

He found Puck coming out of the shower, clad in a towel and looking steamy and wet, and he restrained himself from trying to grab him by glancing nervously at his mother's closed door.

"Dude, can I borrow a clean pair of boxers?" Puck asked. "You really don't want me to wear those again." He held up the sticky shorts, covered with his own jizz, for which Finn had been responsible. Finn blushed hotly.

"Yeah, of course," he said, sliding into the bathroom as Puck smiled at him and went back to his bedroom. He quickly showered, not lingering, and self-consciously brushed his teeth. He looked at himself in the mirror.

"You just had sex with… Puck," Finn told himself, and he smiled at his reflection. "Damn."

When he opened his door, the room was dim, just the light from the one window outlining the bed and the still form lying there. Finn locked the door, dropped his towel and pulled on a clean pair of shorts.

"Puck," he said softly.

"I'm awake," came the low reply.

He crawled into the narrow bed and wrapped his long body around Puck, being the outside spoon. Puck took a long, slow breath in and out. "God, Finn," he said. "We were idiots. For years we wasted chances to feel like _this._ Why weren't we doing this every weekend?"

Finn giggled crazily, holding Puck's body tighter. "That would have put a different spin on things."

"Who knows about you?"

"Only… Kurt." He thought again of the texts they'd just exchanged and smiled, glad he'd had a chance to talk with Kurt. "He's been an incredible friend these past few weeks."

"You care about him." It was not a question, but Finn answered it anyway.

"Yeah… I do."

"That's good, then." Puck pressed back against Finn's cradling form.

They lay together in the dark, letting sleep claim them, but then, Puck said, "Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"This… will still be here tomorrow, right?" He sounded small, helpless, in the dark. "You're not going to… "

"No," Finn said firmly. "I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere, remember? Not ever."

"Okay," Puck said, and that was it.

Then: Monday Afternoon (after the Diva-Off)

Kurt had made him watch the entire bootleg copy of the musical Wicked, which seemed to be about the Wizard of Oz, sort of, and _then_ he made him watch the special about Idina Menzel from Kurt's coveted 3-disc _Broadway: The American Musical_ set. Now they were analyzing Menzel's remixes of "Defying Gravity." Or, rather, Kurt was analyzing them, and Finn was rubbing his feet and trying not to think about sex.

"She looks a little bit like Rachel, doesn't she?" Finn said, pointing to the picture on the cover of the CD.

"I guess," Kurt said, squinting at the picture. "She has that same intense expression. And dark hair. Hmm, maybe you're right."

Finn only was half-listening to Kurt hypothesizing about Idina Menzel being Rachel's long-lost mother. Ever since that night with Puck, foot rubs had inevitably been linked to sex in his mind. He put his hand on the ball of Kurt's heel and thought, _it's just a foot. It's not… anything else. _

"You're touching him, aren't you?" Kurt's question was soft, but intense. Finn looked up, feeling guilty.

"Kurt…" he said, rather pleadingly. They'd been over Finn's dreams before, but Finn couldn't help but wonder how it could be fun for Kurt to imagine Finn with another boy.

"Do this for me," Kurt implored, and he gave in rather than cause a fight. "Take off your shorts, and close your eyes." He did. "Imagine him in front of you, here – or where? Where are you?"

"On his bed," Finn said, remembering the night in Puck's room. "He's holding his guitar and strumming… "

"Is he naked?"

"Yes," said Finn, and shivered. "He's setting the guitar aside now… he's coming over to me… touching my knee…"

And Finn could feel a hand on his knee, a man's hand, strong and broad, nothing like the touch of a girl. His cock twitched and he could feel himself sweating.

"He wants to touch you," Kurt whispered, and the man's hand, Puck's hand, ran up the inside of his thigh to graze Finn's balls. He groaned and spread his legs wider, allowing Puck access.

"Yes," he said, as Puck took his cock in a wet, sure hand, stroking it lightly, then with increasing pressure and rhythm.

"He's so turned on by you," Kurt crooned. "You're everything he ever wanted."

"Ohhhh," groaned Finn again, feeling the pressure building, reaching out to kiss – and it was Kurt, of course, it was Kurt there with him, Kurt's body on his, Kurt's fingers in his hair, Kurt's sure, masculine hand on his cock, drawing him out, giving him the orgasm of a lifetime, right there on the couch. He thrust wildly into the grip of his hand, then pulled Kurt's lithe body close to him and held him tight.

"God, Puck," he blurted out, and Kurt stiffened momentarily before relaxing in Finn's arms.

Now: Later Thursday Night

Finn finally got his mom to let him walk over to Puck's house, reminding her that he'd been there every week for the last several years. "I'll only be there for an hour," he promised. "Puck isn't answering his texts. I want to make sure everything is okay."

The night was calm, and as much as Finn liked a storm, he was glad he wouldn't have to deal with that tonight on top of everything else. He was antsy, not anxious exactly, but full of nervous, unresolved energy, with no outlet.

At Puck's, he grabbed a handful of tiny rocks from his driveway and set up a tattoo on the window above the garage where Puck slept. It didn't take long. Puck's light went on, he looked out the window and, surprised, vanished. A moment later the front door was open and Puck ran outside, wearing only a pair of shorts. He looked as delicious as Finn remembered the night before.

"Hey," Finn said.

"You weren't at school today," Puck said, grinning.

"A little low on sleep," Finn said, grinning back.

"Come inside so I can greet you properly," Puck said, low, and Finn felt a thrill of relief at those words. Part of him had been afraid that Puck would reject him, that he'd changed his mind.

Inside, Puck closed the door and reached out for Finn, who pulled him into a tight embrace. He pulled back to find Puck's mouth, and kissed it hungrily. Puck pulled away and led Finn back to his room, saying, "My mom will be home from work soon, and she is _not_ ready to see this."

Finn sat on the edge of Puck's bed. "Dude, you didn't answer my texts."

Puck looked unabashed. "You knew where to find me," he grinned.

Finn felt that nervous energy rise up in him, like the carbonation in a soda. "Look, are we doing this thing or not?"

"Yeah!" Puck was surprised. "Did you think –"

"Well, I wasn't sure what to think, Puck," he said, and it sounded petulant even to him. He stopped, breathed, tried again. "You – this thing you want from me," he said. "Do you still want it?"

"Yeah, I want it," Puck said, and his voice was a challenge.

"Okay. Then you need to start _behaving yourself."_ His voice was a lash. Puck froze.

"I never have before, Finn," Puck said softly. Now he was apologetic. "I… don't think I can change."

"Yes, you can," Finn insisted. Then he remembered Puck's response before, and he took his chin in his hand. "You will," he said, holding his gaze.

"Finn," Puck said, desperately. "I'm not – I can't –"

"Why don't you let me worry about what you can and can't do?" Finn said. "It's not your responsibility. Just trust me and do what I say."

He pulled Puck down on the bed, sitting in front of him between his legs. Puck looked uncertain. "You're not alone, Puck," he said. "I'm here. We're here together. This is real. You trust me, right?"

"I do," said Puck.

"So believe me when I say you can do it."

Puck shut his mouth, but he still looked troubled. "What is it?" Finn asked. Puck didn't respond, and, frustrated, Finn smacked him on the ass.

Puck jumped up and looked at Finn with incredulity. "What?" he yelped.

"Answer me," Finn said. "Something is bothering you, and you have to tell me. Now."

"I can't –" Finn smacked him again, hard. "Fuck!" he swore.

"Just tell me."

"I'm scared, okay?" Puck shouted. "I keep thinking, what if I screw this up? This is the most important – _you're_ the most important thing I've had. Ever." Finn saw tears rise in his eyes, spill over. "I'm really good at fucking up."

"And I'm really good at forgiving you," Finn said, kissing him. Puck groaned, low and needy, and brought his hands up to pull Finn down onto the bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Now: Friday Morning

It was uncomfortable coming into Glee and seeing Kurt, but it was even worse when Mr. Schue announced they would be singing ballads to another person in Glee… and Finn drew Kurt's name. "A ballad is a love song," said Kurt, and apparently it could be, but could also just be a song expressing feeling.

"Mr. Schue, I don't know if I can do this with… another guy," Finn said, squirming, looking at Kurt's equally uneasy expression. "Can't I draw somebody else?"

"Sorry, Finn, the fates have spoken," Mr. Schue shrugged cheerfully.

Puck drew Mercedes from the hat. He had no feelings one way or another about her, but he wasn't about to run to meet her across a field of fresh daisies. He decided to let her come to him, and ditch the rest of rehearsal.

He ducked into the auditorium to the sound of two boys arguing, and realized it was Finn and Kurt. They didn't sound angry, but Finn seemed scared, and Kurt placating. Puck found a spot in the back where they couldn't see him, but he could see them, and took a seat.

They sat on the stage together, facing one another. Finn stared at Kurt like a deer in headlights - a constipated, terrified deer. Kurt, as always, was calm and collected, even excited about the idea of singing together.

"Sing to me everything you feel," Kurt said, and braced himself.

"Uh… I can't sing… to you," said Finn, uneasily.

"You have to try," Kurt encouraged.

"I can't!" Finn shouted, leaping up. "Kurt, things are different for us now! We can't fix it with one song!"

"Your lashing out at me is fantastically compelling," Kurt said coolly, "and inappropriate."

Finn groaned. "You're really awesome, Kurt, but this is more complicated than just us."

"Girls, they're your problem," teased Kurt.

"You know who my problem is," Finn said, almost too low for Puck to hear.

"What do you want to say to him?"

He was anguished, but went ahead. "There's so many things I want to say to him, and I'm never going to be able to. How I would do anything for him, how no matter what I do I'm always thinking about him. How I'm going to spend my whole life loving him and… he's never going to know."

Puck was frozen by Finn's words. _Did he say…?_

"You've got to let it out," Kurt said.

"How?"

Kurt took a brave breath. "By singing. _I'll Stand By You,_ The Pretenders. It's in your wheelhouse, and I know you know it from the radio 'cause it's a classic." He handed Finn a microphone, and pointed out into the audience – right at Puck. "There," he said. "Pretend he's sitting out there. Sing it right to him."

Puck made eye contact with Kurt, who just bowed his head and stepped aside. He sat down at the piano. "Thank god I never missed a lesson," he murmured, and they began.

_Oh, why you look so sad?_

_Tears are in your eyes_

_Come on and come to me now_

_Don't be ashamed to cry_

_Let me see you through_

_'Cause I've seen the dark side too_

_When the night falls on you_

_You don't know what to do_

_Nothing you confess_

_Could make me love you less_

_I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you_

_Won't let nobody hurt you_

_I'll stand by you_

Puck sat, transfixed, caught by Finn's voice, his passion and the meaning of the words.

_So, if you're mad, get mad_

_Don't hold it all inside_

_Come on and talk to me now_

_Hey, what you got to hide?_

_I get angry too_

_Well I'm a lot like you_

_When you're standing at the crossroads_

_And don't know which path to choose_

_Let me come along_

_'cause even if you're wrong_

_I'll stand by you._

He looked up at Kurt at the piano, playing for all he was worth, tears streaming down his face.

_And when, when the night falls on you, baby_

_You're feelin' all alone_

_You won't be on your own_

_I'll stand by you._

Puck looked around the auditorium, then stood up. "Finn," he said,

Finn saw him there for the first time, and froze. "… Puck," he croaked.

"Was…" He cleared his throat, feeling a prickle inside. "Was that for me?"

Finn nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Did you hear?"

"Every word," Puck said. He couldn't move.

Finn walked downstage and climbed off the proscenium, walking over to meet Puck. He looked around the empty auditorium, and nervously took Puck's hands. "So… what do you think?"

"Dude, you're better than me." His words were joking, but his tone was abashed. "Finn, nobody has sung to me since my dad left. And never... like that. That was… incredible. Thank you."

He leaned up and kissed Finn, a gentle kiss. Finn's eyes flew open, but he didn't pull away. Puck tugged him into an embrace and they stood there, holding one another, for several long moments.

Puck looked up on the stage. "Kurt," he said. Kurt came to the edge of the stage, almost unwillingly, but not resisting. He reached up and helped Kurt to climb down, then took his hand. He looked at Finn, then at Kurt's other hand. Uncertainly, Finn took it, and Kurt looked at him, wide-eyed. They stood there, a circle of hands.

"Thank you," Puck said, and he leaned down to Kurt and kissed him. Kurt made a noise in his throat, and he squeezed Finn and Puck's hands tightly. Puck looked at Finn, who was doing that constipated deer thing again.

"Dude," hissed Puck. "Way to wreck a moment."

Finn looked at both of them, recovered, and turned his gaze on Kurt. Kurt looked absolutely terrified.

"Kurt," he said, but Kurt dropped their hands, backed away, and fled the auditorium before they could say anything else.

"Let him go," Puck said quietly. "You and me, Finn – we need to talk."

Finn looked at him, and the bewilderment on his face was tangible. "You think?" he choked, and Puck laughed, leading him back to the choir room.

Song Credits:

"Isn't She Lovely" by Stevie Wonder, copyright 1976.

"I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders, copyright 1994.


	6. Chapter 6

Then: Last Summer (Santa Fe, New Mexico)

It would have been easier for Puck to blame it on the alcohol if he'd actually been drinking, Puck realized. He looked around, muzzy from not enough sleep and too much sex – _was there such a thing?_ he wondered – but clearly not impaired enough for it to be something he could just chalk up to someone else's fault. He could remember it all very clearly, and it was all pretty damn hot.

Alex was stretched out on the big bed, partially covered by the same sheet that Puck had slept under – and there were Nicole's toes, sticking out from under Daphne's shapely thighs. Other party-goers were crashed out on the floor at odd intervals, but Puck was pretty sure he hadn't had sex with any of them.

Daphne stirred, stretched, and opened her pretty green eyes. "Mmmm. Hey, you. You don't have to leave yet, do you?" she said to Puck, holding out a hand. "Come back to bed."

He allowed himself to be drawn back into the pile of supple limbs and soft shapely flesh, appreciating Daphne's flexibility as she both kissed him and woke up her lover on the other end of the bed. Alex's low voice rumbled approval as he watched Puck and Daphne wrap their bodies around one another.

"Nothing hotter than waking up to your lover fucking somebody else," he purred. "Especially such a fine baby bottom as this." He snaked a hand around and smacked Puck's ass lightly, once.

"Nobody's ever said it looked like a baby's before," Puck grinned, but didn't object.

Alex laughed, deep and resonant. "No, it's _you_, kiddo. You're the baby bottom. You're so new I don't believe anyone has actually Topped you yet." He shook his head, sending his long red hair waving, and smiled. "I bet you're not even eighteen."

"No, but I'm legal," Puck said, hissing as Daphne tugged on his nipple ring. He'd just gotten it last month for his sixteenth birthday and it was still a little tender.

"Yeah, you've got time to figure it out," Alex said, fondly. He crawled over to the two of them, carefully avoiding Nicole's sleeping form, and squashed Puck between him and Daphne as he leaned over to give her a slow kiss. Puck found himself caught in more than one way. _Wow, I wonder if it would work this way,_ he thought; _maybe if my thighs were strong enough…_

"You're saying I'm a bottom? What does that mean, like a… receiver?" He quirked an eyebrow at Alex and ran a curious hand over the light fur that dusted his chest and abdomen.

"Could be, but it's more in the attitude, in what you need," said Daphne. "You – you're a classic brat."

Nicole's voice gave her away before she actually moved from the bed. "Oh, I don't know, sweetie, let's not go pigeonholing the boy," she said in her low, silky voice. Puck shivered, feeling her mouth kiss parts of his flesh covered by the sheet. Then her head popped up, her shaved head and narrow Mohawk somehow making her look more feminine than if she'd had long hair. _I wonder if I could pull off that look?_ Puck mused, then forgot what he was thinking as her mouth found additional parts of his anatomy.

"You're right, of course, darling," Daphne said, giggling. "He sure is adorable. Where ever did you find him?"

"Remember, he was at that open mic? You know your way around a guitar, gorgeous."

"You're pretty bad-ass on that bass yourself," he nodded, looking her up and down.

She returned the look, matching him in a challenge. He grinned approval. "How long are you in town?" she asked.

"We go back to Ohio in about three weeks. My mom's doing a prenatal clinic at the hospital."

"In that case… I think we'd better enjoy you for the time we've got you." Nicole pressed him back so Puck was lying in Alex's lap, and smiled up at him as she put a condom on him before continuing her ministrations. He gasped, appreciating her expertise, while also reveling in the uniquely delicious sensation of Alex's silky soft chest hair on his back.

"So, the three of you… how does that work, exactly?" he said. His human pillow rumbled with laughter.

"It's really very simple," Daphne said. She touched Nicole. "She loves us. I love her…" and Alex's leg, "and him."

"And I love you, baby," Alex replied to Daphne, who beamed, her long blonde hair flying as she lay down alongside him. Alex wrapped a thick, muscular arm around her and pulled her close, right next to Puck. Puck looked into her sweet face, entranced. _She looked a little like that cheerleader at school… Quinn somebody._

"So – love? That's enough?" Puck sighed, shifting his hips. "You don't get jealous?"

"Sometimes," said Alex, numbering his fingers. "You have to be able to communicate. No hiding feelings. No lying. Safe sex outside the family. Pay attention to everyone's needs – which usually means moving at the speed of the slowest person." Alex put a big hand on Nicole's busy head, clearly enjoying her attention to Puck. "When you can do all those things… it's amazing. Better than any drug."

"Shared pain is lessened; shared joy, increased," Daphne said softly, stroking Puck's face with the side of her hand. "Thus do we refute entropy."

Puck had no idea what that meant, but he liked it. He liked it a lot.

* * *

><p><span>Now: Friday Afternoon<span>

"Puck, please explain what just happened in there," Finn said, leaning distinctly toward whining. Puck steered him into the alcove by the choir room, looking around to make sure no one from Glee was left nearby. "I'm really confused. Did you just – you kissed Kurt!"

"Yeah," Puck said, sitting Finn down on the floor. "I did."

"Is that something you've been doing a lot?" Finn swallowed, looking sick. "Do you – I mean, would you rather –"

"Are you listening to yourself?" Puck said, grabbing Finn's shoulders and giving them a little shake. "Where's the guy who just sang that fucking amazing song to me? Will you get a grip?"

Finn's wild eyes looked into Puck's, found only trust, and calmed down. "Okay," he said, and took a deep breath. "Sorry. You're right. I'm okay."

"I want you to know that was the first time I've kissed Kurt." Finn nodded. "I also know something's going on between you two. I can see it."

At that, Finn wilted, his face troubled. "No… I mean, yes, there was, before. Before… us. But not anymore." He looked at Puck, anguish plain on his face. "That was then… this is now."

"What happened?"

"He… he broke it off. He said we needed time to focus on each other, you and me… and we didn't need any distractions."

Puck made a noise like an angry bull. "God, what a load of crap. Finn, what would you say to _me_ if I said that to you?"

"What?" Finn said.

"Come on. What did you do last night when I tried to blow you off, saying I wasn't worth it, all that stuff. What did you do?"

"I… I…" Finn stopped.

"You knocked some sense into me!" Puck exploded. "You knew it was crap. You weren't going to let me get away with that. I needed that. I got stuck in the story in my head that you deserved better than me, that you didn't need to deal with my issues, blah blah blah. But you told me I was wrong, that I needed to trust you. Right?"

"Yeah!"

"And whose decision was that?"

"It's mine," said Finn. "It was my decision."

"Well, you're letting Kurt make all the decisions here for you. He's all alone in this. I'm guessing he's _always_ been alone, and he's used to it. He's trying to protect you from making your own decisions because he doesn't want you to get hurt."

Finn stared at Puck. "How do you know all this stuff?"

"You're not the only one who's been talking to Kurt." When Finn's face got red, Puck added, "And I bet that's not all you guys have been doing."

Finn nodded, the guilt plain on his face. "He – we agreed it would be just – friends. With benefits."

"Is that how you feel? Do you want to be his friend?"

Finn groaned, hiding his face. "I don't know!"

Puck pulled his hands down. "Come on, Finn. Look at me." Reluctantly, Finn did. "No hiding," he said, and Finn took a shuddering breath. "No lying. Be real with me… with yourself. What do you want?"

"I… I want things the way they were," Finn said, fighting tears. "I want… to be able to be with him, and have it be good, with no fears, no embarrassment, no limits." The tears won, spilling down his cheeks and onto his shirt. "I want him to be happy again."

"And me?" Puck wiped his cheeks. "What do you want with me?"

"I – " Finn paused for so long Puck began to get anxious. Then he looked up at Puck, and his eyes were certain. "I want to take care of you," he said.

Puck felt an explosion of joy in his chest, and for just a moment, he couldn't breathe. "Ah," he said, when he could. "Yeah. That's… that's good." Puck nodded. "So… why can't you have both of those things? Why can't you be with Kurt, the way it was, and… take care… of me?"

"Come on, Puck," said Finn, and Puck could hear him slipping back into defeat. "That's not the way things work. You can't have everything. You just can't."

"Who says?" Puck yelled. "Who says we can't have everything we want? Who decided that for us? Don't we get to choose? I never thought I could have you, Finn, but I _can. _I choose you, Finn." Puck put both hands on Finn's chest. "I choose this. You make all things possible."

Finn smiled at that. "I choose you, Puck," he said, and stopped to kiss him.

Puck reveled in that for just a moment, then broke away. "Okay, then. Now, together – we get to choose what we want to happen. _We _get to choose. But Kurt – he needs to choose. And you need to choose, too."

"He already made his choice," Finn said, but Puck shook his head.

"No, dickwad! He thought he could choose for you, to protect you from your own feelings. Are you going to let him get away with that?" He stared accusingly at Finn. "Would you let _me_ get away with that?"

Finn got it. His mouth hung open, and he looked around in realization. "No," he breathed. "No, I wouldn't."

"He needs your help." Puck grabbed his arm. "Like you helped me. You need to go tell him how you feel."

"How I… feel?"

"Yes, you idiot!" Puck held Finn's face between his hands. "Go tell him you love him."

"I love him?" Finn said, faintly.

Puck rolled his eyes. "Oh, brother." He grabbed Finn's head and pulled him into a rough, teeth-knocking, wet, sloppy kiss. Finn's breathing increased, crested, and he took over the kiss, holding Puck down and taking him where he needed to go.

"Puck," panted Finn. "I love you."

"I love you, Finn," Puck said.

"And… I love… Kurt." He sounded amazed.

Puck smiled huge. "Yeah," he said. "So do I."

"Yeah," Finn said, eyes bright with possibility. He jumped up, holding out his hand. "Let's go find him."

Puck shook his head. "No, man, you have stuff to work out between the two of you. Besides… I have something else I need to do. Call me when you're done talking, and I'll come over."

Finn nodded. "Okay. I have the feeling we're really going to need you there."

"Of course," Puck said. "We're all in this together."

* * *

><p>"Shared pain…" quote from Spider Robinson's miraculous Callahan Chronicles.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Then: Four Months Ago

Santana's parties were legendary, and Puck had been hoping for a good one. He really needed something to take his mind off the events of this summer. He hadn't expected to miss Daphne, Nicole and Alex so much. Especially Alex. He'd taught Puck a lot about sex, and relationships, and how things were between guys. And about Puck, himself.

_Is it any wonder I don't have a lot of tolerance for the bullshit of highschool anymore?_ Puck told himself, finishing his fourth beer. He wished, not for the first time tonight, he'd brought his guitar.

"Finn's really drunk," said a voice. He looked up. It was Quinn. "I thought maybe you'd want to take him home."

He raised an eyebrow. "Not really," he said. "I'm not Finn's keeper. Besides, I'm not in any condition to drive."

She sighed. "Well, can you help me take him up to Santana's guest room, then? I don't think he should be out here when she comes around to clean up. He's an… affectionate drunk."

He grinned. "Oh, yeah?"

They located Finn sitting by the hot tub, watching Santana and Brittany make out. "That's really nice, the way they're such good friends," Finn said to Puck, leaning too far back and overbalancing himself. Puck caught him.

"Yeah, nice," Puck smirked. He lifted Finn under the arms and helped him to his feet, slipping an arm around his shoulders.

"Why aren't we friends like that, man?" Finn burbled. Quinn choked back a laugh and Puck's eyes danced.

"It's good to have friends," he went on, stumbling against the wall. Puck steered him up the stairs and into the room Quinn indicated. She pulled the sheets back on one of the beds and pushed him gently down onto the bed, kissing him.

"It's time to go to sleep now, Finn," she said, pulling off his shoes.

"I love you, Quinnie," he said, closing his eyes.

"I'm going to get him some Tylenol and a glass of water," she said. "Can you stay with him for a minute?" Puck nodded, and she disappeared downstairs. He could still hear the sound of the party downstairs, but was suddenly glad not to be in the middle of it.

"Puck," Finn said, and held out his hand. Puck took it, feeling uncomfortable, like he was taking advantage of Finn's inebriation somehow.

"I'm here, dude," Puck said.

"I missed you this summer," said Finn. "It wasn't the same without you. You're my best friend."

"Yeah, of course," Puck said.

"I love you, man."

Puck's mouth was suddenly dry. He wanted another beer. "I, uh, I love you, too, Finn." He disentangled his hand from Finn's. Quinn reappeared with water and Tylenol.

"C'mon, sit up, man. One more drink."

"I had one already," Finn said, and Puck laughed. He took the tablet from Quinn and opened Finn's mouth with a finger, putting the tablet inside. Finn caught his hand and held it like a baby bird. "Tastes bad," he complained, and put a kiss on Puck's fingers.

Quinn began to laugh. "See if you can get him to drink that water, okay, Puck? I'm going to get another beer. You want one?"

"Yes," Puck said, through gritted teeth. "Definitely." He watched her go back downstairs.

"You smell good," Finn said. Puck put the bottle of water up to his lips and tipped it back. Some water spilled out of Finn's mouth and down his chin. Puck slowly wiped it away with one finger.

"You need more, dude?"

"Yeah," breathed Finn, looking at Puck, and Puck's own breath caught at Finn's expression. Puck gave him another drink, watching Finn's lips close around the bottle, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Puck capped the bottle and set it on the nightstand next to the bed, then he helped Finn lay back down again. He pulled the blanket up around his shoulders and stroked his cheek once, twice.

"Is he out yet?" Quinn asked, handing him a beer. Puck shook his head and took a drink, not trusting his voice. Quinn put a hand on his shoulder, and he closed his eyes. "You're a good friend," she said.

"No, I'm not," he said. "I want too much."

"Finn understands," she said. Her hand came down onto his chest and bumped his nipple ring, and he shivered. Her eyes widened.

"Well, Puck, the Mohawk wasn't the only new thing you got this summer," she said, and her voice was thick with curiosity and other things.

"You have no idea," he said, grinning.

"Can – can I see?" she asked. He pulled his shirt over his head, and she put the flat of her hand under his nipple, framing it in the crook of her thumb and forefinger. "Wow," she breathed. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah," he said, which was true. "It feels good now, though." This was also true, though he would not have admitted that the pain had felt good, too, in a way.

She grinned at him wickedly. He had not seen that expression on her face before, and he liked it. He understood it. "So if I did _this –" _and she put two fingers on the ring and _tugged, _and he jumped – "does that feel good?"

"Yeah," he said, running his hand up her back and into her blonde hair, so similar to Daphne's, so familiar to his hands.

They looked at Finn in the bed next to them, sleeping soundly. "What would he do if he woke up right now?" he said.

Quinn laughed. "He would want to watch," she said, and Puck was suddenly so turned on, he didn't think he was going to be able to stand it. He pressed against her hips, grinding against her, and she gasped, feeling his hardness. "Is that for me?" she teased.

_I'm not even sure who it's for,_ he didn't say. Instead he said, "If you want it."

"You know I don't do that," she said, but she did a little grind on his leg, and he could feel her warm wetness through her panties.

"But what if you did?" he whispered, leaning in and kissing her neck, taking her earlobe in his mouth. "Who would know?"

Her breath caught, and she moaned, a delicate sound, delicious and forbidden. He reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down with one sweep of his hand, running a finger through the wetness he found there, and she moaned again.

"Would Finn do this for you?" he said, low and intense. "I bet he doesn't even know how to make you come."

He pushed the heel of his palm against her impeccably groomed pubic hair and slid one finger down, just between her lips. She ground harder against him, eyes closed, still letting out those soft moans, and slid her slender hands down his hips, under his shorts.

"Don't stop," she said, gasping, and pulled his shorts down to his knees. He disentangled himself from the legs and pressed her down onto the bed with his hand, still rubbing, grinding.

One of the many things he'd learned over the summer was that girls wanted it, too. Daphne and Nicole taught him how to give it to them, the many ways they liked it – and there were many – and how to know what to do. "You're going to come first, like this," he said, not letting up on the pressure of his hand. "Then I'm going to make you come again, inside you."

"Puck –" she gasped, and he felt her clenching around his finger. Her moans burst over him like a shower of delicate flowers. He slid his hand away and pressed his cock in the spot he'd left, and when she bucked up against him, he slipped inside. She hissed, "Wait –" but he put his fingers back on her clit and rubbed, and she thrust against him, wanting it. _You want it, too,_ he thought.

Finn turned and moaned in his sleep, and this was just about the most erotic sound that Puck had ever heard. He felt his control slipping, and he sped up his strokes just as Quinn cried out, "God!"

He grabbed her hips and thrust harder, grinding her into the bed, and she moaned the way he'd been waiting for. _Finn, do it again, make that noise again,_ he thought, and then Finn _did,_ and he came.

"You guys are beautiful," Finn said, and they froze, looking at each other, then over at Finn, but his eyes were closed, and he looked peacefully asleep.

He pulled out and she made a sound of annoyance, looking at the soggy mess on her skirt. "Great," she said, and she was just Quinn again. He offered her his shirt, and she mopped up the worst of the mess. They didn't look at each other again.

"He doesn't need to find out," she said, and he nodded, zipping up his jeans and leaving them together.

* * *

><p><span>Now: Friday Afternoon<span>

Finn was on his way home when Quinn called. He almost didn't pick up, but he didn't want to deal with Quinn's voice mails, which were always lengthy and cruel. This was just easier.

"Finn!" she said, panicking. "My parents want you to come over for dinner tonight."

"Uh, that's… nice, but I don't think I –"

"Finn, you don't understand. My dad won't take no for an answer. You _need_ to be here."

"Why?"

"Because you're this baby's daddy, and I'm telling you to," she hissed, and he almost drove off the road, he was suddenly so pissed.

"Okay, Quinn," he said, through his rage. "What time?"

Then he called Kurt. He didn't even think about it. "Kurt," he said, not waiting for him to say anything, "Quinn is making me have dinner with her parents tonight. What am I going to do?"

"Finn – " Kurt sounded like he might hang up on him, but then he sighed. "Okay. You can do this," he said. "How can I help?"

Finn felt a sudden, bright rush of love for this boy. He couldn't believe he'd not recognized the feeling before. "Thank you," he said.

"Of course," Kurt said offhandedly, but now Finn recognized the fear behind it. _I'm going to fix this,_ Finn told himself. _I will. _

"I need something to wear," he said. "Would you come over and help me pick something out?"

"Finn Hudson, asking me for fashion advice?" Finn could hear Kurt's eyebrow go up over the phone. "Is this one of the signs of the apocalypse?"

"My dad has a bunch of old clothes in the basement," said Finn. "I'm going to see if I can find something to wear down there."

"I'll be right over, Finn." The phone went dead.

When he got home, Finn went down to the basement where his mom kept his dad's trunk. He opened it and took out his dad's army helmet and held it in his hands. It was heavy and bulky.

"Do you miss him?" Kurt's voice said from the stairs.

"I never really knew him," Finn said, and he looked up at Kurt. His eyes were shuttered. "But, yeah, sometimes I really do." He handed Kurt the helmet. "I wonder what my dad would think of me… now."

"I'm sure he would be very proud of you, Finn," said Kurt.

"Maybe," Finn said. "I don't think my mom would have married a homophobe. But you never know, right? Maybe he would have kicked me out."

"It happens," Kurt said. "I guess you'll just have to think the best of him."

He put the helmet away. "Do you miss your mom?"

"There's an old dresser that still smells like her perfume. Sometimes I just lie down in the room and… smell her." Kurt smiled, far away. "I guess it's stupid."

"No, it's not stupid at all," Finn told him, and Kurt's protective smile slipped a bit. He turned away. Finn went back to the trunk and pulled out the next piece of clothing he came upon, which turned out to be a dark sport jacket. "Hey, look at this." He slipped it over one arm, and Kurt came up behind him and helped him put it on. He gave an approving look.

"Not half bad," he said. Finn turned away, oddly shy.

"I can't believe it fits," he said. Kurt brought over two ties to try out against the fabric of the suit and put them over Finn's shoulder.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said suddenly. "About Puck. That surprised me too."

"We don't need to talk about it," Kurt said, but Finn shook his head.

"We really do," he said, "but I need to figure out what to do about Quinn first."

"Are you going to tell her you know about the baby?"

"I don't know," Finn sighed. "I'm not sure it's worth it. I'm so angry for what she did. I wish I could find a way to tell her how much she hurt me."

Kurt paused. "I… think I know a way. But it's not very nice."

"I don't feel very nice right now," Finn admitted.

"Well, when your dad went into Desert Storm, he wasn't empty handed, right? He had a weapon."

Finn paused, confused. "You think I should bring a gun?"

"Finn," Kurt said, aggravated, and he sounded so much like himself that Finn was reassured. "Your weapon is your voice. And I have just the song to give Ms. Fabray a taste of her own lying medicine."


	8. Chapter 8

Then: Two Weeks Ago

Burt had been happy for Finn to come spend the night at their house, but he was an early riser and wasn't interested in sitting up with the boys, so he was already asleep when they came back from the movie at 10:30. He sprang for pizzas, though, and left Finn a note: _Finn – glad to have you over. Treat it like your home. The guest room is ready for you. Kurt – put your dishes in the sink. Love you, Dad._

"I get 'put the dishes in the sink' and you get 'glad to have you over,'" Kurt groused.

"You got 'love you,'" Finn pointed out, and Kurt had to concede. "That was awesome of your dad to buy us pizza," he added, enthusiastically helping himself to the biggest slice.

"That was definitely for you," Kurt said, but he ate some of the cheese off the corner of one piece.

They spent the next twenty minutes arguing about whether the movie _Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World _had been more like a graphic novel (Kurt) or a video game (Finn), and whether the gay characters were more ironic (Kurt) or just silly (Finn, though he wasn't absolutely sure if Kurt was using ironic correctly), and completely ignoring the big green couch in the middle of Kurt's basement room.

Then Kurt put a hand on Finn's arm, and Finn lost interest in his sixth slice of pizza. He smiled nervously and touched Kurt's face. "Are you sure your dad's not going to come down here?" he asked.

"I think we've successfully convinced my dad you're straight," Kurt said. "He didn't even mention keeping the door open. But I think we should definitely plan on sleeping in the guest room. It would look suspicious if the bed were neatly made in the morning."

"Oh," Finn said, dazed by the idea that tonight, he might be sleeping in the same bed with another person, not related to him, and with whom he might be making out. All night. It was a heady concept. "Sure, yeah."

"We should set up some ground rules," Kurt said.

"Um, okay." Finn's usual experience with dating girls involved being chivalrous and polite until the girl gave him permission to kiss her, after which he tried to do as much as he could get away with, which typically meant hands on top of clothes and lots of "no" and "not yet." "What did you have in mind?"

"First, I think we should forget about being embarrassed," Kurt said. "We're both sixteen year old boys, and I think it goes without saying we're interested in sex. Can we just take it as read that we want to try things out?"

Finn thought that was just about the best idea he'd ever heard. "Dude. Why doesn't every date start with that rule?"

"Because it would end romance as we know it," Kurt said, patting Finn's arm. "Now, based on our respective sexual histories, I think we can both assume we're fairly healthy and don't have any sexually transmitted diseases to pass on. I'm in favor of dispensing with barriers, unless one of us wants to try them, in the interests of curiosity."

"Barriers? You mean, like, condoms and stuff?" Finn had a supply of them stashed in various places, just in case, but he had never had occasion to need to use them. "Um, that sounds fine to me."

"My last suggestion is for each of us to avoid making any immediate judgments on the other's curiosities or interests. Knowing that sex can seem strange or gross in one set of circumstances, but completely compelling in another, let's just agree to try it out, or not, as we decide. Mutual agreement, or no go."

"I'm in," said Finn.

These three rules in place meant that Finn and Kurt found themselves entirely naked, sated and laughing hysterically by 11:15, so they decided to go to bed early – and accidentally discovered that they absolutely, completely loved sleeping together.

"I think this might be better than sex," Kurt said, snuggled in Finn's arms.

"You only say that because you've already had sex," Finn said. "It's definitely better than bad sex."

"Have you ever had bad sex?" Kurt inquired.

"What I had with most of the girls I've dated would qualify," Finn said. "Definitely not tonight, though. Tonight was awesome. Best date ever."

Then they kissed good night - which led to more exploration, which led to soggy sheets, which caused them to decide to sleep in Kurt's room after all.

* * *

><p><span>Now: Friday Night (Quinn's House)<span>

"Okay, you have the CD?" Kurt asked for the tenth time, retying Finn's tie (they had decided on the striped one, but Kurt had changed his mind at the last minute).

"Yes. It's right here," Finn said, patting his inside breast pocket.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No," Finn said, "but I think it's better than the alternative of me punching her in the face."

Kurt laughed. "I'm guessing that would actually go over better with her parents."

Finn didn't laugh. "I thought she loved me," he said, "but she just wanted what she always wants: status. It wasn't about me at all."

"I'm sorry, Finn," Kurt said, and he actually sounded sad. Finn grabbed him in a hug, squeezed, and let go before Kurt could get all weird about it.

"Call me if you… well, just call me," Kurt said, stepping back and giving him a sad little wave. It broke Finn's heart, but it was time to go.

Dinner was the four of them in the dining room, Quinn and her parents and Finn. He made all the small talk he could stand, but suddenly in the midst of dinner he started to panic. He excused himself and escaped to the bathroom, where he called Kurt.

"I can't do this," he said.

"You don't have to," said Kurt. "Just stay for the rest of dinner, thank them and say goodnight. Everything will go on the way it has been."

"… miserably," said Finn.

"Bingo."

"I hate it when you're rational."

"You hate it when I'm more rational than you."

Finn took a deep breath. "I have to go; they'll think I'm pooping."

In the mirror, he did some karate moves to psych himself up, but he still was anxious when he went back to the dining room, this time with the CD player from Quinn's kitchen.

"What's this?" said Quinn's dad.

"We had an assignment in Glee this week, which was to express our feelings by singing a song. I wanted to sing this one for Quinn, because it shares my true feelings better than my words ever could."

"How nice," said her mom, smiling. Quinn did not smile. She looked like Finn had pulled a gun to her head. _No,_ she gestured, but Finn looked at her with steely eyes and pressed play on the CD:

_You're having my baby, _

_What a lovely way of saying how much you love me, _

_You're having my baby, _

_What a lovely way of saying what you're thinking of me_

_I can see it, your face is glowing, _

_I can see it in your eyes, I'm happy you know it_

Quinn stared at Finn with barely disguised horror as he sang. He did not care what happened after this, he did not care if she hated him, or if she thought it was sweet, or anything at all. This wasn't for her. This was the correct use of the word ironic. It was for his little Thumper, and it was him saying goodbye to that dream.

Her dad turned off the music halfway through and pulled them both into the family room for the worst talking-to he'd ever had, from his mom or any teacher. The only time he felt a little bad for Quinn was when she was walking out the door with him, with two duffel bags full of stuff, the only things she was permitted to take with her. Her mother wouldn't come out of the library.

"You can come to my house," Finn said, at last. "It's small, but you can stay with us for a while until you figure something else out."

She was white and silent beside him on the car seat, but he could not find it in him to be sorry.

* * *

><p>Music credits: "You're Having My Baby" by Paul Anka, copyright 1974.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Then: Last Week

"Look what I got today," Kurt said, showing Finn the screen on his phone:

_3 texts – Mercedes Jones_

_9:45pm: K, I know you're on a date – why won't you tell me about it? cmon, I need details! call me_

_10:26pm: at least tell me does he go to our school? _

_11:16pm: you are so mean – I'm gonna figure it out_

"She's getting bolder," Finn said, taking another handful of kettle corn and spilling half of it on the couch.

Kurt passed him the bowl. "She's nothing if not tenacious," he agreed. "I don't think I'm going to be able to hold her off much longer."

"Okay," he said. "What are our options?"

"One: we could invent a fictional boyfriend, someone from another school. I go on carefully crafted dates and email myself texts. I think that's the easiest one, but I really hate lying to Mercedes."

Another enormous bite, and half the bowl of kettle corn was gone. "That's out, then. What else?"

"Good god, Finn, you have hands like pile drivers. Can you save me some of that? Thanks. Two: we could tell her just enough details to assuage her need to be involved. This has the advantage of being truthful, but I predict it won't feel enough like gossip to satisfy her."

Finn picked bits of kettle corn from between the couch cushions, inspected them for fuzz, and ate the clean-seeming ones. "Well, why don't we just tell her the truth?"

Kurt stared at him. "The truth?"

"Yeah, that we're friends with benefits."

Kurt delicately picked a kernel of corn from between his teeth. "I'm at somewhat of a loss," he said. "I never considered you might want to… come out."

"Why not? You're out."

"Yeah, and look at what that gets me every day," said Kurt. "Slushies, harassment and general social suicide. How would that go over for you? Football is already bad enough for you."

"I already told you, I don't care about that stuff anymore." Finn set the bowl down. "Truth matters. I think it would be better if I just went ahead and did it. No more hiding, no more lies."

"And no more sleepovers," Kurt pointed out.

"That would totally suck," Finn agreed. They were silent for a few moments.

"So how would you do it?" Kurt asked. "Sing it from the rooftops?"

"I was thinking skywriting. Or possibly a billboard. _Finn Hudson is gay._ Has a nice ring."

"Gay?" Kurt looked at him. "Not bi?"

"Kurt," Finn said, moving close to him and stroking his leg, "I think if I can say one thing for sure, that's over the past two weeks, I've had the best, hottest, most educational sex of my life. Nothing else I've ever done even comes close." He touched Kurt's chin and kissed him soundly. "If that doesn't mean I'm gay, I can't imagine what does."

"Well," said Kurt, looking overwhelmed, "okay, then."

Now: Friday Night (Kurt's House)

Finn rang the bell, stood on Kurt's porch and waited, but it was Burt who came to the door.

"Good evening, Mr. Hummel," Finn said, startled. "You're up late."

"Finn," Burt nodded. "I'm sorry to say this, but I don't think Kurt wants to talk to you right now."

Finn opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "Is he… okay?"

"Judging by the particular songs he's had on repeat for the past couple hours, I think he's pretty upset," Burt said. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

"I can, but I don't know if Kurt wants me to," Finn said.

Burt nodded again. "Do you want me to take him a message?"

"Um, yeah, that would be good." Finn held up his CD player. "You can say… tell him if he doesn't invite me in, I'm going to start singing from the rooftops, or possibly do some skywriting."

"O-kay," Burt said, "I'll tell him."

Finn stood on the porch and waited for exactly two minutes and forty-six seconds before Kurt threw open the door and stared at him. "You wouldn't," he said.

"Try me," said Finn, and Kurt let him in without another word.

Kurt's eyes were red and he was wearing a plain t-shirt and shorts. He looked vulnerable in ordinary clothes. "What did you tell my dad?" he said.

"Nothing," Finn said. "Why?"

Kurt was silent for a minute, then he said, "I don't want him to know about us. About before."

"Why not?"

Kurt must have heard something in Finn's voice, because he looked up and said, "No, it's not you, it's… my dad is big on things like this happening with the right people at the right time, and… I think he would think I was… compromising myself."

"Because it wasn't for love."

He nodded, looking away.

"What if it had been for love? Would you want him to know then?"

Kurt looked back, confused. "I—I suppose so."

Finn set down the CD player. "Kurt, I have some things I want to tell you. Are you willing to listen?"

Kurt just looked at him and crossed his arms, but he nodded.

"First, I want to thank you for your help with Quinn. Her – her parents threw her out."

"Oh, Finn," Kurt said.

"Yeah," he said grimly. "She's staying at my house now. But – I want you to know this – I don't feel bad. I'm not spending any more energy on that. I'm done with her. That was my goodbye. I think she knows it."

Kurt took a deep breath. "Okay."

"The second thing is that I talked with Puck about what happened today, in the auditorium." Kurt shifted uncomfortably. "He's waiting at home for us to call him when we're done talking. I think he has some things of his own to tell you."

"Anything else?" Kurt said tersely. "I need to –"

"Yeah. You got to hear my ballad, but I never got to hear yours. I'd really like it if you would sing it to me."

Kurt looked at the floor for a long time. When he looked up, his eyes were wet. "I don't think that's a good idea, Finn," he said brokenly.

"Please," he said. He pushed the CD player over to Kurt, and handed him the disc that had been in the player at school that afternoon. _Kurt- Ballad,_ it read simply.

Kurt bit his lip, then finally, slowly, nodded. "Okay, Finn. I'll sing it to you. But after that, would you – please – go home?"

"I have only one more thing after this," Finn promised. "Then you can tell me to go."

Finn went to the couch, where they'd spent so much time over the past few weeks, and sat in his usual favorite spot, on the long end of the L. "Okay," he said. "I'm listening. What's the song called?"

"I Honestly Love You," whispered Kurt. "It's from the musical _The Boy from Oz."_

"Sounds nice, and positive and stuff," Finn encouraged. "Go ahead."

Kurt straightened, pressed play, and to the accompaniment of strings, sang this simple song:

_Maybe I hang around here _

_A little more than I should_

_We both know I got somewhere else to go_

_But I've got something to tell you_

_That I never thought I would_

_And I believe you really ought to know_

_I love you_

_I honestly love you_

Ever the consummate singer, Kurt maintained his poise and did not once drop his gaze from Finn's, and his eyes remained dry. But Finn could feel the lump beginning in his throat from the first "I love you," and it did not ease, but swelled as the string accompaniment swelled, until he had trouble swallowing, and then it threatened to cut off his breathing altogether. Kurt's expressive face told the whole story.

_I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable_

_I'm not trying to make you anything at all_

_But this feeling doesn't come along every day_

_And you shouldn't blow the chance_

_When you've got the chance to say_

_I love you_

_I honestly love you_

Now the music had given Kurt confidence, and he came forward a few steps, reaching out a hand. Finn stopped himself from reaching back only after he realized it was just part of Kurt's performance, which, he thought, could have brought the staunchest audience to tears. And Finn definitely did not fall into that category. He had to look away and put his hands to his mouth to control his expression more than once, but he made himself return Kurt's gaze.

_If we both were born _

_In another place and time_

_This moment might be ending with a kiss_

_But there you are with yours_

_And here I am with mine_

_So I guess we'll just be leaving it at this_

_I love you_

_I honestly love you_

As the accompaniment drew to a close, Kurt's lip began to tremble. "I lied to you, Finn," he said, in his sweet, gentle voice. "From the beginning. I said I didn't… that I was over you. But I never was." He let out one, hitching sob. "I've always… loved you. And I still do." His face twisted in pain and regret. "And I don't think I can do this anymore. It's too hard. I feel so lucky to have had this time with you, but… it hurts too much to see you loving someone else, knowing I… don't get to have that. I'm so sorry."

Kurt turned and ran into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Kurt!" Finn called, running to the door, banging his hands against it.

"Please go home, Finn," Kurt yelled. "If you care about me at all, you'll give me this."

"No," he yelled back. "You said you would listen to one more thing. So… if I have to do it through this door, I will. Just, please, listen. I didn't get to sing a song to you. I owe you. You deserve to hear this." He paused. "Kurt?"

There was silence.

_I'm not going to mess this up,_ he thought, switching the CDs in the player. _Not this time. I can do this. This is for Kurt. _ He listened to the opening bars of guitar with growing confidence. _For us. _He opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and sang to the closed door:

_I can't fight this feeling any longer. _

_And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow. _

_What started out as friendship, _

_Has grown stronger. _

_I only wish I had the strength to let it show. _

_And even as I wander, _

_I'm keeping you in sight. _

_You're a candle in the window, _

_On a cold, dark winter's night. _

_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might. _

_And I can't fight this feeling anymore. _

_I've forgotten what I started fighting for. _

_It's time to bring this ship into the shore, _

_And throw away the oars_

_Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore._

Finn was not an experienced singer. His strength came from his passion and his natural talent, but performing was new to him. More than once he had to choke off a sob and cut notes short, but he kept swallowing back the tears and singing his heart out. He felt like that's what was happening – that his heart was pouring out of his mouth.

_My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you. _

_I've been running round in circles in my mind. _

_And it always seems that I'm following you, boy, _

_Cause you take me to the places, _

_That alone I'd never find. _

All the events of the past two weeks flew through his head in rapid succession: their first conversation in the courtyard at school, the donuts, Kurt's self-sacrificing slushie and his own, followed by their first kiss… their first everything – right here, in this basement, on this couch. All the things Kurt had done to support him, in his pursuit of Puck, the thing with Quinn – so many times he had helped or given Finn exactly what he needed. Every moment of companionship and lust and laughter that they had shared coalesced inside Finn, into one single, defining thought: _I love this boy. I loved him all along. _

_Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore. _

_I've forgotten what I started fighting for. _

_And if I have to crawl upon your floor, _

_Come crashing through your door, _

_Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore._

Finn approached the door, put out a hand to touch it. "Kurt," he said. There was no answer.

"Okay," he said, "that was it. I'll go home now. Thanks… for listening. I hope you heard me."

Finn turned to leave, but as he was walking up the stairs, he stopped short. Burt was sitting there on the top step, looking at him with an intense expression he recognized. _Kurt has his eyes,_ he thought, amazed, and he stepped back a little, afraid. "Mr. Hummel," he said.

"You're no short shakes with those vocals, son," said Burt. He stood up, still a few steps above Finn, so their gazes were just about even. "That… what you said. Is it true?"

Finn swallowed. "Yes," he whispered.

"I want to hear you say it."

He made himself look at Burt. "I'm in love with your son," he said, and his voice cracked on the last word. "I don't know if he's going to accept it from me, but I had to tell him."

Burt nodded, slowly. He took off his baseball hat and rubbed his bald head. "I guess I knew this day would come," he said. "I wasn't sure how I was gonna handle it. All this… stuff about Kurt being gay… I've always known it, but it's taken me a while to deal with it."

"I understand," said Finn, and Burt gave him a piercing look, one Finn was familiar with.

"I imagine you do," he said. "This is all pretty new to you, huh?"

"In one way, yeah," Finn said, "but in another way, I've known it all along. I've always had these feelings. I'm just not so good at recognizing them sometimes."

Finn sank down to sit on the step, and Burt sat with him. He put a gentle hand on Finn's shoulder. "This business about sharing your feelings through music… that seems to work for you. I think you did a fine job."

He smiled at Burt, amazed at how good it felt to receive approval from this kind, straightforward man. "Thank you, sir."

"I think… I think if you're going to be dating my son, that you can call me Burt," he said.

"I don't know if Kurt wants that," he blurted. Burt shook his head.

"Hey, I'm dumb, but I ain't stupid. I heard that song he sang to you first. I think it was pretty clear about how he felt."

"But feelings aren't always enough. Sometimes… it's more complicated than that."

"Well, I guess, then, you'll have to let him choose."

"Yeah," Finn said. "I get to choose, too." He hesitated, then said, "Excuse me, sir," and scrambled back down the stairs.

The door was still closed. "Kurt?" he said softly. "Are you listening?" There was no answer, but he forged ahead. "I know it seems that I already made my choice, about what I want with… someone else. But I learned today that when you want something… when you want some_one…_ that you still get to choose. We all do. And then we get to figure out how to make it work. So I don't know if it _will_ work or not; I can't predict that. But I do get to choose." He put a hand on the door. "I choose him… _and _I choose you. I choose us."

He lay his head against the door. "Please, say something."

He felt the tumblers of the lock click, and he stepped away as the door swung slowly open. Kurt stepped out of the bathroom. His eyes were red and puffy, and his face blotchy with tears. He looked beautiful to Finn.

"You're beautiful," Finn said, and he put a hand to Kurt's face. Kurt flinched back, and Finn dropped his hand.

"I'm scared, Finn," Kurt whispered. "I don't know if I can do… this. What you're proposing. I just don't know if I can do it."

"I know. I know it's… a lot to take in," Finn said. "But I'm here to ask you to trust me, that I can make it work. I _know_ I can." He reached out again, and this time Kurt let him touch his face. Kurt's eyes closed. "Together, we're something better than we are apart. And Puck – he makes it better, too. All of us together. It feels like the way it should be. I don't know… that we can do it without you."

Kurt touched the hand that was touching his cheek, and held it close. It felt like an embrace. "Noah... he knew," he said. "He knew from the beginning. Even before you two – before now. He knew that it was going to be the three of us."

"Yeah," Finn said. "He loves you, too. He said so."

Kurt looked up at him, startled, but nodded. "I think… I knew that."

"Baby…" Finn said, and Kurt let out a shocked breath at the expression. He tried again. "Kurt, you've been trying to do this all by yourself, to manage your feelings and protect me from getting hurt. I'm here to tell you that it doesn't have to be like that. You can lean on me, on us. We're both here to hold you up when you're not feeling like you can do it. You don't have to be alone anymore."

Kurt began to breathe, great big sobbing breaths, and Finn took him in his arms and held him close while Kurt cried, at last. Then he leaned down and kissed him, whispered words of encouragement into his mouth. He twined his hands in Kurt's soft hair and loved him for all he was worth. "I love you, Kurt," he said.

"I… I love you, Finn," Kurt whispered, looking up into his eyes. He put his hands on Finn's chest. "And… I choose you. I choose… this. Whatever happens." He laughed a little, shakily. "You may regret it."

"No," Finn said, a smile winding up from inside his gut and blooming on his face. He felt like flying. "No regrets."


	10. Chapter 10

Then: The End of Last Summer

_Well, I'm New York City born and raised_

_But nowadays, I'm lost between two shores_

_LA's fine, but it ain't home_

_New York's home but it ain't mine no more_

_I am, I said_

_I am, I cried_

_And I am lost and I don't even know why_

_Leaving me lonely still_

Puck strummed the last stanza in silence. He didn't notice Daphne behind him until she put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. Puck looked up at her and smiled, sadly.

"Are you all packed?" she asked. He nodded. "We can mail you anything you forget."

"If you find anything I leave behind, I would rather you just keep it," he said quietly.

"Sweetheart…" She came around to kneel at his feet and put her hand on his leg. He twisted his mouth and didn't stop playing. "You know you're welcome back, any time you want to come."

He nodded. "Maybe I can visit next summer." The last word shook, and he looked away.

The screen door slammed and Nicole bursting in, laden with A/V cables and her bass amp. "Did I miss him?... Oh, thank god." She dropped the load in the middle of the floor and wiped the sweat from her shaved head. "I thought for sure that I was going to be too late."

Puck opened his guitar case and put his old Takamine carefully inside. Then he stood and graciously accepted Nicole's enthusiastic embrace, complete with pierced tongue. "I don't suppose we can get you to transfer to school down here," she said, raising a hopeful eyebrow.

"I… don't think my mom would go for that," he said, grinning a little.

"There will be phone calls," said Daphne. "And email, and Facebook."

"And sexting in the middle of the school day," drawled Nicole, and Puck laughed.

"You guys are…"

"Adorable," rumbled Alex, stepping into the room. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Hold on. I want a picture in my mind of the three of you, just like this." He held out his massive hands in a rectangular window, framing the scene. Then he held out his hands. "Puck… come here."

Puck walked to Alex and leaned against his big chest, feeling them breathing in rhythm together. His fingertips could barely touch when he wrapped his arms around him. _Safe,_ he thought. _This is what safe feels like._

"Tell me what you want," said Alex.

"These weeks with you have been… incredible," he said, looking across to Nicole and Daphne. "I just don't want it to end."

"It won't," said Nicole. "We'll still be with you. Nobody's going to take that away." They came to put their arms around Puck and Alex, a quartet of bodies.

Alex took Puck's chin in his hand. "You will remember everything I taught you, about who you are, and who you can be."

"Yes sir," he said quickly.

"And…" He leaned forward and kissed him gently. "You will carry the possibility with you, so that others can be loved by and love you. No lies, no fears. Just – what is true."

Puck looked at him, then at Daphne and Nicole, and the tears did not fall. "I will."

* * *

><p><span>Now: Friday Night<span>

"Kurt, come upstairs now," was the phrase that finally pulled them away from each other. "You, too, Finn," Burt added, and Finn put down the things he was gathering to take home. He looked over at Kurt with an apologetic expression.

"I think we need to face the music once more tonight," he said.

Kurt looked up the stairs, then at Finn, and his eyes grew round. "Finn – you… you didn't…?"

"He heard us sing. Me, especially."

"What did you tell him?" Kurt's eyes grew wilder.

Finn put a hand on Kurt's back as they walked slowly up the stairs. "That I love you, if you'll have me."

Kurt stopped, turning pink, and put a hand to his cheek. "But not about…?"

Finn shook his head. "No. Just us."

Kurt let out his breath. "Okay. I think I can handle this." They walked out into the kitchen and found Burt at the table, hunched over a bottle of beer. He straightened up when the boys came in the room, and his expression was hard to read. They sat down at the table across from him.

"First of all, tell me how long has this been going on?" Burt said, with no preamble. "Because, I'm not the sharpest pencil in the box? But I'm getting the feeling that you're making up after a fight."

"We've been – trying to figure this out for about two and a half weeks," said Kurt. "I kept telling Finn that I – that I didn't really care for him. That way."

"But now you're saying you do?"

Kurt looked at Finn and bit his lip. "I always did. I was just too scared to tell him."

"Sounds like there's been a lot of that going around." Burt leaned his head in his hand as though it weighed a thousand pounds, and sighed. He looked at both boys. "Kids, I can't pretend to understand how this feels for you two. I never had to go through it. But I guess love – is love, and I've been there. I want you to know I don't care that you're gay." Burt paused and looked at Finn, confused. "You… you are gay, right?"

Finn reddened. "Uh, yeah," he said. "I'm… I'm gay." He breathed out, straightening his shoulders. "That's the first time I've said it to another person."

"Hmm." Burt considered him. "Well, you guys could be yellow with pink polkadots for all I care. I love you, Kurt, and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. And Finn, you're just about the nicest kid I could imagine for Kurt to be with. If I had any say in it, I'd choose you, too." He grinned at Finn's expression. "I know I don't, though. This is Kurt's call."

"Yeah," said Kurt, and the look he gave Finn was unmistakable, now. "I choose… this."

"Finn, you haven't talked to your mom about this?" Finn shook his head, and Burt sighed again. "Well, I'm thinking we're going to need to get together and talk - soon. All four of us." He looked hard at Kurt. "And no more sleepovers. Understood?"

"Got it," said Finn, and he grabbed Kurt's hand under the table and squeezed. Kurt squeezed back.

"I'm going to give Puck a call," said Finn. "He wanted me to call him right away after we were done."

Burt pushed out his chair and stood up. "It's getting late, isn't it, guys? Can't we call it a night?"

"Dad, he won't stay long," Kurt said. "It's important that we talk to Puck tonight. Please – can you trust me?"

Burt looked like he had an answer to that one, but he successfully held his tongue and nodded. "Okay, Kurt. You guys have – " he checked his watch "—an hour." He gave Finn a meaningful look. "Door stays open," he said firmly. "But I'm going to my room, and I'm not coming downstairs unless I hear yelling. Got it?"

"Thanks, Dad." Kurt gave him a hug, and Burt closed his eyes momentarily, shaking his head.

"I love you, Kurt."

"I love you, too," Kurt said into his dad's shoulder.

"Finn – hang on a minute." Burt stood looking up at Finn, and he barely came up past his shoulder, but Finn suddenly felt like he was ten again. Burt took his arm. "This is my son. He's more precious to me than my own life. I need you to take care of him." He looked at Finn's face. "Can I trust you to do that?"

"Yes, sir," Finn said, not hesitating.

Burt nodded. "I believe you," he said. Then he pulled Finn into a hug. Finn couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged by a grown man. It felt achingly, inexplicably wonderful. The feeling of being ten persisted. He relaxed into Burt's arms.

"Thank you, sir."

"Burt, please."

Finn nodded, smiling. "Okay… Burt." He gave a little wave as Burt headed upstairs. Then he turned to Kurt and, without warning, picked him up in his arms and carried him down the stairs to the basement. Kurt squawked.

"Quiet, now, or your dad will come down," said Finn, not trusting himself to kiss and walk at the same time.

"Finn – what in the hell are you doing?" Kurt hissed, flapping his arms and uselessly hitting Finn on the chest.

"I'm taking care of a little business," he said, carrying Kurt directly into the bedroom. "I somehow doubt we'll have time for this later."

"Do we have time for it now?" Kurt said, but he was smiling.

Finn looked at the clock. "I give us – oh, fifteen minutes," he said. "Ready – go."

It only took ten.

* * *

><p>"I Am… I Said" by Neil Diamond, copyright 1971.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Then: Earlier This Year

Brittany and Tina took a breather while Kurt went over some of the hand moves in "Shoulda Put A Ring On It." Memorizing dance steps were easy, but he wanted the hand moves to look _just_ like the video. He tossed his head back and felt the rhythm in his hips and feet.

"You totally rock this look, Kurt," said Tina.

"Yeah, I heard black is the new black," said Brittany.

Kurt brushed his hair back off his forehead. "You two don't look so bad yourselves," he said. "And your dancing is exquisite. Thanks for doing this with me."

"It's really fun," Brittany said. "I like the idea of putting a ring on it. Do you think you'll get married someday?"

"Definitely," Tina said wistfully. "I want to get married, see the world with my husband, then settle down and have a bunch of kids."

"I don't know if I want kids, but I think the married part sounds nice," said Brittany. "Like a sleepover every day. How about you, Kurt?"

Kurt shrugged nervously. "Oh, I don't know. Marriage is such an institution. I can't imagine that I could find the right… girl for a long time." _Or ever._

"I like the idea that there's one right person for me out there," Tina said. "I wonder if I'll ever find him? And how will I know if I do?"

"You'll know because he'll love you all the time, even if you don't love yourself so much," said Brittany. "And he'll have stars in his eyes when he looks at you. You see it on Bugs Bunny all the time. Those stars, those are dead giveaways."

There was silence while they took in those words of wisdom. "Or it could be a she," said Brittany, and Tina looked at her in surprise. "Couldn't it?" she said in a small voice.

"Not in Ohio, Brittany," said Kurt sadly.

* * *

><p><span>Now: Late Friday Night<span>

When Puck arrived, Finn and Kurt were in the bathroom. He didn't bother to knock, but just came downstairs, stealthily, and left his guitar on the table by the green couch. Then he changed his mind, dragging the table away from the couch. Then he changed his mind again, moved the table back, and sat on the small end of the L. He took his guitar out and tuned it, humming under his breath.

He was ready.

"Dude, that's not where the soap goes," Finn's voice came from the bathroom, and he walked out wearing nothing but a towel. When he saw Puck, he froze. "Oh – hi. I, uh, didn't hear you come in."

"I kind of planned it that way," Puck said, grinned, completely sanguine.

"We, uh, we were just –"

"Finn." Finn stopped talking and looked away. "Finn!" He looked back, blushing. "It's okay," said Puck. "Really. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," said Puck, leaning back with his guitar. He felt at home with it in his hands. _Kind of how I am with Finn, _he thought, and he let his love and desire show in his face. Finn looked at him, and smiled, shaking his head in wonderment as he disappeared into the bedroom.

"It's going to take some getting used to," he said, from the other room.

"What?" said Puck.

"All of it," Finn said, pulling on his t-shirt and sitting next to him, "but I think especially this idea about the three of us. I've been thinking about it, but I don't really understand it yet."

"I have some ideas," Puck said. "It's all good. We'll figure it out."

Finn put a hand on Puck's leg, and his leg tingled where he touched him. He stopped playing and picked up Finn's hand. _Holding hands. _Such a simple gesture, so important. "How can you be so cool about this?" Finn asked.

"Because you and Kurt made it okay," he said. "You gave me a way to be myself in a way I haven't been for a long time. I don't have to be a jerk anymore." He laughed. "That doesn't mean I might not still be one sometimes. But at least now I know I'm not stuck being one forever."

Kurt came to the door of the bathroom and stood there in his robe, toweling his hair, watching them hold hands. "I still don't really understand how I'm involved here, Noah," he said diffidently. "What did _I_ do?"

"Do you remember that day in the bathroom after Finn hit me?" Puck said. Kurt nodded. "You washed me up and put a bandaid on me. You used ointment. _Ointment._"

"Your point?" said Kurt, one eyebrow going up.

"You took care of me without even thinking about it. You just did it. I mean, you didn't even like me then."

"You did the same for me after I got slushied in the locker room," Kurt pointed out. "You brought me a towel and helped me comb out my hair. And you cooked a spectacular dinner - _twice._"

"You did?" Finn said, surprised, turning to Puck. "You didn't tell me that."

"Yeah, I was trying to make up for some of the crap I gave you earlier this year," Puck said, looking at the floor. "I wanted you to know I wasn't going to treat you like that anymore." He looked at Kurt. "But that wasn't all. You talked me down from my freak-out. You told me what I needed to do to make things right with Finn." He cocked his head. "Now, what kind of guy would do that – for his boyfriend's love interest?"

"Finn wasn't my boyfriend," Kurt corrected automatically.

"Friends with benefits. Whatever. Why would you want to help me? What possible reason could there be?"

Kurt opened his mouth. No words came out. This was unusual enough that both Puck and Finn glanced at each other and grinned. Kurt's brow's knitted.

"I wanted… Finn to be happy?" Kurt tried.

"How about: you cared about me. As a human being, as another guy, as a friend."

"Okay," Kurt said. "I'll acknowledge that."

"That's important, Kurt," said Puck. "People don't generally show that kind of care for one another. But you did. You're that kind of person, who can care for a guy who's been a total jerk to you, who can be selfless enough to want his own boyfriend—" he looked meaningfully at Finn "—to be happy, even at the expense of your happiness. That's pretty awesome."

Kurt blushed. "Thanks, Noah," he said, quietly.

"See? You even care what I think of you." Puck leaned forward, setting his guitar aside. "But that wasn't the most important thing you did."

"What? What was it?" Finn asked, enthralled by their conversation, like it was the best movie ever.

Puck didn't look away from Kurt, but he squeezed Finn's hand. "You _got_ me. You understood right away about how I am: needing to be controlled, to submit, needing Finn's approval and attention, getting forgiveness for things I did wrong to feel right inside. And you didn't judge me for being this way, for needing those things. I think… that healed something inside me, to be treated that way." He looked at Finn. "I need you, Finn, in so many ways. But you – I need you, too, Kurt. You make me free to be myself."

"You're not going to start quoting _Jerry Maguire_, are you, Puck?" said Kurt, but his eyes were shining with emotion, and his face was flushed.

"I have no idea what that means," said Puck, "but I think I'm going to sing you guys a song now." He picked up his guitar.

"You—you're going to sing? To _us_?" Finn looked amazed, as though Puck had never done such a thing before.

"Yeah. You guys had your turn. Now it's mine. Finn – you sit there." He pointed to the long end of the L, and Finn took a seat. "Kurt." He patted the center cushion, next to him. Kurt slowly walked over and curled up with his feet under him, tucked in his robe, watching Puck closely.

Puck strummed a D chord. "This summer I met some… people, really amazing people, who taught me a lot about myself, about what's possible, about life in general. One of them, a girl, Nicole…" He swallowed. "She really likes this band. They're iconic gay musicians. Anyway… I thought this song expressed my feelings for you guys pretty well." He began a steady, rhythmic picking pattern, and sang quietly:

_A hard knock, a cold clock_

_Ticking off my time_

_A long look, but no luck_

_Couldn't seem to find or unwind into peace of mind_

_While I was trying_

Kurt reached out and put a hand on Finn's ankle. Puck's voice was warm and smooth, and years of daily practice had made playing the guitar nearly effortless, a simple extension of himself. He directed the next verse at Finn:

_A quick glance, a big chance_

_My heart beat like a drum_

_I saw you and I knew_

_Chances just don't come round again_

_Not like this_

_First a laugh, then a kiss_

Finn leaned in, clearly enjoying hearing the story of their connection told in song. His eyes twinkled at Puck and he smiled big at the chorus:

_And I'm free in you_

_I've got no worries on my mind, I know what to do_

_That's to treat you right and love you kind_

_Thank you ever on my mind_

_Love is just like breathing when it's true_

_And I'm free in you_

Now he shifted his attention to Kurt, who still looked shy, but as the verse went on, he was drawn in, eyes sparkling like stars. He drank in Puck's attention and smooth music like it was a nonfat latte:

_The lost time and self pride_

_Are my big mistakes_

_A clear voice, a bad choice_

_Sounding like an ache in my day_

_Not too bad_

_But too real to go away _

_But now I'm free in you_

_I've got no worries on my mind, I know what to do_

_That's to treat you right and love you kind_

_Thank you ever on my mind_

_Love is just like breathing when it's true_

_And I'm free in you_

Now he turned to reach out to both of them together for the bridge, his heart feeling a little raw, to share this part that was so hard for him to believe, that he could barely trust was real:

_And I don't know how you show such gentle disregard_

_For the ugly in me that I see_

_That for so long I took so hard_

_And I truly believe that you see the best in me_

_I'm enough for your love_

_And that thought sets me free_

_Free in you_

_Got no worries on my mind, I know what to do_

_That's to treat you right and love you kind_

_Thank you ever on my mind_

_Love is just like breathing when it's true_

_And I'm free in you_

Puck ended his song as simply as it had begun, then set his guitar on the table and came to stand in the space on the couch between Kurt and Finn. Finn reached out a long arm, and pulled him down into his lap, that place that had already come to feel like home to Puck. _Safe,_ he thought. _This, too, is what safe feels like. _He took a single breath, then felt the tears come.

"Yeah," Finn said roughly, stroking Puck's head, neck and back in that way he had, bringing him down. "That's it. That's just it."

And then Puck felt a second set of arms around him, a more slender pair, but no less strong for that. They reached around his back and held him tightly, and there was a gentle kiss on his cheek, and one on his ear, and he just cried harder, feeling there was no possible way he could deserve this, to be here, in this moment, with these two boys.

"Thank you, Noah," whispered Kurt's voice in his ear, and Puck turned his wet face to Kurt's, and opened his lips to Kurt's gentle kiss. He felt Finn's breath on his neck, and moaned against Kurt's mouth. He pulled back, thinking he'd asked too much, but Kurt tugged him in again, deepening the kiss, and he let himself respond.

"God," said Finn, his voice deepened with lust, "you guys look so fucking amazing when you do that."

Puck smiled through his kiss, remembering when he'd discovered that bonus of sex with multiple partners. "It doesn't bother you?"

"Hell, no," Finn declared, so emphatically that Kurt fell apart into breathless giggles. Puck grinned and turned to Finn, and wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling him into a kiss of his own. Now it was Kurt's turn to gasp his appreciation, watching their tongues dance and mouths touch.

"… Wow," Kurt said, sounding faint.

"Your turn," said Finn, and covered Kurt's mouth with his. Kurt leaned across Puck to meet Finn, and Puck found Kurt's body pressed against him. It was so different from the way things had been with Daphne, Nicole and Alex – and yet deliciously, achingly familiar.

They separated momentarily, catching their breath. "You probably should be going," said Kurt, regret plain on his face. "My dad knows we're down here doing nefarious things, and he's going to come down here in a minute if we don't watch the time."

"Your dad – knows?" Puck said, startled. Finn grinned and nodded.

"Not all of it," Kurt said, one hand on each boy's chest. "We are _not _going to bring that up tomorrow, either. Give me some time to work on him. Okay?"

"No more sleepovers," Finn said mournfully, and Kurt sighed.

"Wow," said Puck, "you are definitely going to have to tell me about what you guys have been up to. It sounds pretty… hot."

Kurt groaned. "Honestly, I can't imagine it getting any hotter, but… I am guessing what we've done won't hold a candle to what we're going to do."

Puck stood, with an effort, and adjusted himself right in front of Kurt's face, which caused Kurt to choke and Finn to laugh hysterically. "Hey, guys, there's one last thing."

"More?" said Finn. "I really don't know if I can handle anything else tonight, dude."

"No, not tonight," said Puck, packing up his guitar. "Tomorrow. Come to my house for breakfast, both of you. We'll eat at 10:00."

Kurt's face lit up. "Are you going to cook for us, Noah?"

"You bet," said Puck, raking him up and down with his eyes. "Anything you won't eat, Hummel?"

This made Kurt turn beet-red and set Finn off all over again, but Puck softened the edge of his words with a gentle embrace and a lingering kiss. Finn came up behind Kurt and put his arms around the both of them from the back, so Kurt was caught in the middle.

"Oh my god," Kurt whispered, closing his eyes. "Sleeping in a bed with… with _both_ of you… that would be…"

"A thought for another time," Puck said. He nudged Finn at Kurt and watched contentedly while they said their goodbyes.

"See you tomorrow?" Finn whispered, and Kurt nodded, eyes too full of emotion to speak. He kissed Kurt on the tip of his nose, and Kurt melted. _I'm going to have to remember that one, _thought Puck.

Finn took Puck's hand and walked down the steps of Kurt's porch together into the dark, cool night. They turned and waved at Kurt, still in his white fluffy robe, leaning on the doorframe and smiling at them for a long time before he went back into the house.

"My house or yours?" Puck murmured in his ear, and Finn turned to him with starry eyes.

"We might as well make the most of nights, until they get wise to us and cut us off," said Finn. "Let's go to your place. I'll call my mom and let her know where I'll be."

"Are – are you planning to tell your mom about… us?" Puck said, suddenly nervous.

"I don't know," said Finn, honestly. "It's going to be a big enough surprise that I… that I'm gay, without this added complication." But then he shrugged. "I was kind of thinking about throwing it all at her at once and seeing what stuck."

"Gutsy," Puck said, admiringly. "Your mom is cool. I bet she'd be fine with it, given time."

"What about Burt?" Finn said, and Puck laughed.

"I suspect he's going to want to crucify me for seducing his son," he said.

Finn bit his lip and let out a groan. "Now, that, you've got to let me watch."

* * *

><p>"Free In You" by the Indigo Girls, copyright 2004.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

(Author's note: I'm sorry for the length of this chapter, but they just wouldn't stop. Warnings for mentions of abuse and D/s, both of which may come up frequently after this.)

* * *

><p><span>Then: Eight Years Ago<span>

"Ma?" Noah knocked quietly on the door of his mother's bedroom, checking to see if she was awake. He didn't hear anything, so he carefully put his head in. She was still lying prone on the bed, but he noticed her eyes – well, one eye, anyway – were open, so he decided to come in.

He was almost afraid to look at his mother's face, but today didn't seem to be as bad as sometimes. There was a little bruising around her cheek, but her eye was hardly blackened at all. He knew by evening most of the bruising would have turned green, and by the next day yellow, and then it would be easy to hide with makeup. He had experience with that.

"Noah," she said. "What are you doing up so early? It's not even 6. Go back to sleep."

"It's okay, Ma. I'm awake now." He didn't say he had been up most of the night, listening to make sure his dad didn't come back. Every time the thunder struck he would creep downstairs to be certain it wasn't the door slamming open. But his dad had stayed out, was probably sleeping it off at a friend's house, or snoring in the door of the bar downtown. Later in the morning, they would take the car out and look for him. But for now, it was safe.

"Can I get myself some breakfast?"

"There's milk and cereal in the cupboard, honey. Be careful getting the milk bottle down from the top shelf."

"I'm eight, Ma," he said importantly. "I can do it."

"I know you can, Noah," she said, and she sounded tired, but there was love in her voice. She closed her eyes, and he tiptoed out.

"I mungry, No-wah," said his sister, rubbing her fist into her face, her Piglet doll dragging on the floor behind her.

"I'll get some breakfast," he said. He had an idea. They had milk, and there were eggs and some jam in the fridge. There was a book on the shelf in the family room that had recipes in it. If he could figure out the words, he could make something with eggs and milk and jam. That would be a lot better than cereal.

He pulled the book off the shelf and found the section that had breakfasts in it, then he flipped through until he found a picture that looked good. French toast. Did they have bread? He looked in the box. Half a loaf, with only a little mold. He took the loaf out and scraped off the mold with a knife, the way he'd seen his mom do. Then he read the recipe, as best as he could. He wasn't so good at reading at school, but he knew most of the words on the page, and the math part was easy.

He got out the cup measure and the little nested teaspoons. He loved the way the spoons fit together so perfectly, each one lying inside the other, in a neat little pile. They looked very comfortable there.

His sister watched with interest as he got out the big frying pan. "Did Ma say you could do that?" she asked.

"Yeah, of course," he lied. He put the frying pan on the stove and turned on the gas, then added a big plop of butter from the dish. The butter melted on the pan, making a puddle. He cracked three eggs into a bowl, like the recipe said, only getting a little shell in the yolk. He fished it out with his finger. Then he checked the recipe and mixed the eggs with two cups of milk, using a fork.

He smelled the custard, then went back to the cupboard and got a few little boxes of spices from the shelf. He sprinkled in a little salt, some cinnamon, a tiny bit of nutmeg, some allspice and a few sprinkles of chili pepper. Then he put his nose near the custard and smelled again, and this time he was satisfied.

He dropped the bread into the custard and lay it on the hot griddle. It sizzled invitingly.

"Mmmmm," said his sister. "That smells sooooo good, Noah." He grinned at her.

"It'll be ready soon," he promised, reaching up with the pancake flipper to turn the toast on the griddle. He got a plastic tray from the cupboard, put some jam into a bowl and added a glass of orange juice. Then he ran downstairs to the side yard with a knife, cut a few spring flowers, ran them back upstairs and stuck them into a juice glass with some water. _There._

When the toast was ready, he gave one piece to his sister, and put the rest on the tray. He picked it up and brought it back to his mom's bedroom, knocking again, this time with a foot. "Breakfast, Ma," he said, and put the tray on the bed.

The surprised, proud look on her face was like balm to Noah's scared, hurt spirit. _Maybe next I'll try dinner,_ he thought.

* * *

><p><span>Now: Early Saturday Morning<span>

Quinn was sitting up in Finn's dad's old recliner when he came in the house. He resisted an urge to tell her to get out of it. _I hear it's not so comfortable, being pregnant,_ he thought. "Hi," he said. "How's it going?"

"Lousy," she said, staring fixedly at the television, which was showing a commercial for a knife that could cut through tin cans.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, taking off his jacket. He noticed Kurt's favorite sweater was still in the closet, so he took it out and draped it carefully over his arm.

"I'm fine," she said. Then she saw Puck behind Finn, and she stared. "Why are you here?"

"Smoking hot buttsex with Finn," Puck said, and Finn choked.

"Nice, Puckerman," said Quinn, making a face. "Really, what are you doing here?"

"I guess we should talk," said Puck, and he came in and sat down on the couch next to Quinn.

"Not much to say," she said, crossing her arms on top of the baby.

"Quinn, I don't want to make this any harder for you," said Finn, "but –"

"Well, it's a little late for that, isn't it, Finn?" she snapped. Then she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry. That wasn't necessary." She looked up at them. "You have every right to be mad at us, Finn. At… at me."

"I'm not mad anymore," said Finn, and it was true. It was hard to know exactly when he'd gone from angry to resigned, but somehow it had happened.

"It was a mistake," she said. "We were drunk."

Puck stopped her. "We weren't all that drunk," he said. "That wasn't why we did it."

She looked at Finn, but would not meet Puck's gaze. "Finn – "

"I was missing someone," Puck continued. "You reminded me of her." He looked at Finn. "Plus I have a habit of taking things that belong to you."

"I don't belong to anyone," Quinn said hotly, but nobody responded to that.

"You know I don't mind," Finn said to Puck, and Puck smiled.

Quinn looked at the two of them, suspicious. "What is going on here?"

"What are you going to do with the baby?" Puck asked.

She frowned. "I don't know yet."

He reached for her hand, and she took it. "If you decide to keep it… I want to help. I think – I could be a good dad. I never thought that before, but now – things are different." He looked at Finn, who was staring in shock at Puck. "We could do it together," he said, and only Finn knew he wasn't talking to Quinn.

"I'm sorry, Puck… I'm not ready to think about that with you," Quinn said.

"Give me a chance to prove it to you," he said. She didn't say anything to that. Finn stood up, ready for this conversation to be over.

"You can stay here a few days until you find a place to live, Quinn." Finn touched her arm lightly, and she nodded. "Let me know if I can do anything."

"I'm a tough girl," she said. "I'll be okay."

In the hallway, far enough away so they were out of earshot, Finn grabbed Puck's shirt and pushed him up against the wall. "What the hell was that?" he hissed.

"Dude, I don't know, it just felt right." He glared back at Finn. "What, I thought you'd be happy. You loved her."

"I loved her when I thought she was mine," he said angrily. "But she's not."

"No, she's _mine," _said Puck. "You could have her back. I always thought you'd be a good dad."

"I can't deal with this right now, Puck." Finn shook his head. "Can we talk about it at your house? Because I think I'm gonna get loud and yell, and I don't know if you want Quinn to hear the things I'm going to say to you."

"Whatever," muttered Puck, backing off. Finn sighed. He was tired and just wanted to go to sleep, but it was clear they were going to have to finish this first.

* * *

><p>"Tomorrow's a double shift for my mom, so she's spending the night at the hospital," said Puck. "My sister'll be the only one home, and I'm sure I can find something for her to do tomorrow when Kurt comes over for breakfast."<p>

"She won't wake up tonight?" Finn asked, carefully hanging up Kurt's sweater, and Puck shook his head.

"Her room's on the first floor. She won't hear anything we do upstairs."

Finn drove Puck up the stairs with a look and followed him up to his room. Puck sat down on his bed, glaring at Finn, who circled him carefully, trying to figure out the best approach. He recognized this Puck, ornery, contrary, but he wasn't sure how best to reconcile him with the calm, loving Puck who'd sung him that song. _I need to take him there,_ he thought.

"I don't get why you're so mad," Puck muttered. "I didn't do anything."

"I'm not mad," Finn said. "I'm just – you did it again. You crossed a line."

"A line?" Puck scoffed, raising a mocking eyebrow.

"Yeah," said Finn, and put a firm hand on Puck's neck. He applied a little pressure and felt Puck resist, then give in. Puck's body relaxed somewhat, and he sighed.

"Look," Finn tried. "You're kind of impulsive, right? When you get an idea that sounds awesome to _you_, sometimes – sometimes it doesn't work out so well. Sometimes it gets you in trouble."

"Like what?" he said.

"Like putting pot in the cupcakes. Like sleeping with Quinn, or making out with Rachel. Like kissing Kurt, that first time. Like… being a father to that baby."

Puck shifted uncomfortably. "Okay."

"So here's what you'll do from now on. When you get an idea, come and tell me about it first, before you do anything about it, and we'll decide together if it's a good idea or not. Then if you make a mistake and do something wrong, it's not your responsibility. I'd take care of it."

"How?" Puck looked skeptical. "How would you take care of it?"

Finn took a deep breath. "I'd… I'd punish you," he said, trying out the sound of the words. Puck's breath quickened and his eyes dilated.

"You mean, you'd – you'd hit me?" he said. "Like when we fought in the hall?"

"You know, I was thinking about that. I honestly don't think I'm going to be able to hit you in the face without someone noticing." Finn trailed his fingernails down Puck's ribs, to his waist, his hipbone. "I'm going to have to figure out someplace else… where I wouldn't have to worry about… marks."

Puck closed his eyes, opened his mouth and made a noise like "Ohhhhhh." It went straight to Finn's cock, and he rubbed himself through his jeans. He stood before Puck, his cock even with Puck's line of sight. Puck watched avidly. His hand twitched, and he licked his lips, but he sat very still.

"Do you think that would help you?" Finn said softly. "Would it help you be – good?"

"I don't know," Puck said, mesmerized by the fly on Finn's jeans.

Finn tried again, this time with more force. "Puck. You will come to me first, with new ideas, before doing anything about them. Got it?"

"Yes s - Finn," he said. He paused.

"What?"

"Should I – can I – " He stopped and took another breath, turning scarlet. "_Please,_ do you want me to call you sir?"

"Me?" Finn said, his voice cracking a little. "Puck, that's kind of – we've been friends since we were kids. Do I deserve that kind of a – title?"

"Is it okay for me to want you to?" Puck said, low.

Finn blushed, mortified at his body's own approval. "Do you – do _you _want to? Call me that?"

"_Yes,"_ Puck hissed, closing his eyes.

Finn nodded, stomach knotting. Then he touched Puck on the cheek and made him look at him. "Yes, what?"

"Yes sir," Puck said quickly, looking up at him with relief. His hands clenched and unclenched reflexively.

"Okay," Finn decided. He felt dizzy. "When you're asking a question, or when you're answering one, sir would be… good."

"Yes, sir," he said again, more quietly this time, almost dreamily. Finn felt the rush of power, that carbonated, fizzy feeling that was starting to be familiar. He knew when he had that feeling that he needed to _do something_ to Puck, to give the energy back.

He took Puck's head in his hands, rested it on his abs. Puck wrapped his arms around Finn's legs, holding on. "We're going to a different place, with this, you and I," he said to Puck, feeling the intensity, heavy in his chest. It was a responsibility: _don't fuck this up, Finn_. Puck nodded, not speaking. "Is it what you want?" Another quick nod. "You seem to know what you want. Have you… done this before?" A hesitation, then a nod. "You'll tell me all about it later."

"Yes sir." Puck looked up at him.

"Is there… something you would like to do now?" Finn asked, then he mentally kicked himself at the expression of confusion on Puck's face. _No – don't ask. Tell. _He watched Puck watching him, the way he was holding so, so still, and took a guess. "You want… to be tied up?"

Puck's answering flash of lust and need was tangible. "Yeah, I do want that," he said, his voice low and smoky. "But right now, I want… I've been wanting… something else."

Finn watched Puck's eyes flicker back to Finn's crotch, and Finn felt a flush of anticipation. _The way the blood keeps leaping all over my body all of a sudden, I think I might pass out._ "Okay…" breathed Finn. But he had enough self-control to stop Puck's move to touch him. "Wait – we still have unfinished business."

He pointed at the bed, heady with daring and hoping, _praying_ this was what Puck _actually, really_ wanted, that it wasn't going to cause more problems, but mostly just, god, so fucking turned on.

"Get down here, in front of me. On your knees."

Puck moved with alacrity, making a little moan of surprise. He positioned himself on all fours, facing the chair on Finn's left, but couldn't seem to help rubbing up against the bed a little. Finn suddenly remembered an image from one of his (_smoking hot_) dreams of Puck, watching Puck touching himself, and he said roughly, "Hands off. That's mine, understand? You don't get to come until I say."

"Yes… sir," Puck said, and it was like a sob. He held very still, his head down, the muscles in his back knotting, waiting, just waiting.

"You've been waiting for this for a long time," Finn said, amazed.

"_Yes, sir." _His voice was hardly a whisper. "A… a long time. All my fucking life, _god,_ Finn." He turned his face toward him, and his cheeks were wet.

Finn got down next to the bed and put his face right up next to his. He kissed him passionately, thoroughly, trying to reassure himself as much as Puck that this was okay. "You look so incredibly hot like this," he said, and Puck squeezed his eyes closed, not making any noise at all. "I… I want to do so many things to you. I can't wait to try them all."

Puck nodded, eyes still closed, and put his forehead down on the bed.

Finn stood up again, looking at Puck's strong shoulders, his long, straight back, his tight, round ass. He rested a gentle hand in the small of his back. Puck shuddered.

For a second, Finn panicked. _How do I do this? How do I hit my friend? How hard would be hard enough, but not too hard? _He took his hand away. But then, he could feel Kurt's hand on his shoulder, around his waist, holding him, saying, _You can do this. It's for Puck. It's not for you. Do it for him. Give him what he needs._

He raised his hand up to his shoulder. "I want you to count. Six strokes." And he brought his hand down, hard, on the round part of Puck's ass.

Puck gasped and jumped a little. "One," he said, after a moment.

"Was – was that okay?" Finn asked, trying not to sound too anxious. His hand tingled. He felt a rush of energy travel up his spine. It made him lightheaded.

"_Yes, sir._ Harder… please."

Finn tried again, harder. This time, Puck didn't jump, but groaned a little. "Two. Harder."

This time he took a little step back and put more of his shoulder into it. Puck moaned louder and swiveled his hips. "Th-three. Yes."

Finn's hand was beginning to sting. "Are you sure that's not too hard?"

"_No._ Please."

Finn felt the bubbly, champagne tingling flowing through his arm and into Puck as he swatted him again, putting the weight of his arm and body into the stroke. Puck gasped. "Four!" Finn could feel a calm certainty overcome him. "Five!" His hand was beginning to sting, but he took care to put as much energy into the last stroke as he had the first five.

"S-six." Puck's voice broke. Finn rested his hand on his back, rubbing the sting away with slow, circular strokes, then he dipped his fingers down, curving into the space between his cheeks, to the sensitive skin below. Puck leaned into his touch, swearing.

"Was that good?"

"Yes," Puck groaned.

"Yes, what?" said Finn.

"Yes… _sir._ Thank you, sir."

Finn let his hand continue its path between Puck's legs and felt the hot, heavy weight of his hard cock through his jeans. "Good boy," he said, daring, and Puck shuddered. "Sit up." Puck gingerly swung his legs off the bed and put weight on his abused bottom. Finn took his chin in his fingers and held it firmly, looking down on him. "Is there something else you'd like to do?"

"Yes…"

"I want you to ask me for it. You say please so nicely. Tell me how much you want it."

Puck tried to look away, but Finn wouldn't let him. He panted, cheeks flaming. "Please, sir, I want to suck your cock so bad. Please… may I?"

Finn lost the ability to think for about five seconds while all the blood in his body redistributed itself. After that, his first thought was, _Puck just said those words to me. To me. _His second thought was that there was no way he could possibly get harder than he already was. "Yeah," he said, reaching for his fly, "yeah, that would be good, yeah."

Puck stopped his hand. "Let me," he said, looking up at Finn through smoky eyes. "I've been dreaming about this for too long to let you do it for me."

Finn felt sounds coming out of his mouth, but he no longer had the ability to stop or control them. They were small sounds, breathless, gasping sounds, that didn't sound at all like him. But then, there was no way this could be him, standing in Puck's bedroom, having his zipper undone, his jeans pulled down all at once, and feeling Puck's hot, eager, sensuous mouth swallow his cock.

"Oh, holy fuck," Finn gasped. The muscles in his legs wobbled and threatened to give in. Puck pushed him back and he sat down on the chair behind him, stumbling over the legs of his jeans, and Puck scrambled to pull his legs out, get the jeans out of the way and get back to what he was doing. Finn was only too happy to assist. _Yeah, you can keep doing that as long as you want, _he thought. _Take your time. Maybe Tuesday. Maybe never._

Puck made a noise of contented rapture. Finn was familiar with this noise. It was the one he always heard when someone ate the food that Puck had cooked for them, the noises he himself made. Now, that Puck would make them for _him,_ when he was tasting… _him,_ was unbelievably delicious.

Finn dared to look down at Puck, who had brought his hands up to caress Finn's cock, putting pressure on the base, pulling the skin back. He was concentrating hard, very focused on what he was doing. It reminded Finn of the way Puck had massaged Finn's feet: tidy, with attention to little details, but almost clinical, unemotional. But then Puck _looked _up at him through his lashes, and Finn caught Puck's hidden expression of desire, and he felt like someone had knocked his chair out from under him. "So hot," he moaned. Puck made a noise in his throat, and Finn could feel it right through his cock and into his bones.

"Puck," he gasped. Finn reached out and touched his head tentatively. He could feel he was close, and thought he might warn Puck, because maybe he wouldn't… wouldn't want to… _oh, god. _

The phrase _swallow his come_ fluttered through his mind, and that image, that idea, related to Puck, drove him over the edge. He bucked and thrust up into Puck's mouth, shouting incoherently and nearly falling off the chair, but Puck's arms kept him steady. He felt Puck swallow, choke a little, but manage to take it all.

Finn closed his eyes, leaned back in the chair, and attempted to recover his senses. Then he felt Puck's firm tongue, cleaning him off, and he nearly lost them all again. He didn't think he could watch. "Uhhh," he said, intelligently.

"Thank you… sir," said Puck softly, and gently kissed Finn just below the navel before sitting back on his heels.

Finn flopped out a loose hand, and Puck took it. "Oh my god," Finn said after a minute.

"Yeah," Puck agreed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Thank you," Finn said. "I think you blew my brains out." Puck laughed a little.

Finn noticed Puck wasn't putting any weight on his butt. "That – what I did for you." Puck nodded, looking at his lap. "I didn't… hit you too hard, did I?"

"No."

"Maybe next time we should take these off," Finn said, reaching out and tugging on a belt loop of Puck's jeans. Puck did not move.

"Puck?" Finn moved back to look at Puck's face, saw the drops of wetness falling into his lap, and put his hands on Puck's shoulders, pulling him forward. Puck scrubbed his nose and eyes on his arm. "Puck," Finn said again, more urgently. "What is it?"

Puck raised glistening eyes to Finn's. "I'm – I'm freaking out a little," he admitted.

"Was that too much? God, I'm sorry –"

"No!" Puck shook his head, sniffed. "No. Not too much. Just – you said _next time." _He laughed. "That you would – do it again. With me. I didn't… you don't… think I'm crazy. For wanting it."

"What? No!" Finn cupped his face, kissed him on his forehead, his red eyes, his cheeks, his swollen lips. He could taste the bitter tang of himself on Puck's mouth. Puck looked overwhelmed.

Finn wrapped him up in his arms. "No," he said. "You're not crazy. You _need_ this. I can tell. I want to give it to you. I want to give you… everything. Whatever it is you need."

"God, Finn," Puck groaned, grabbing him and holding him so tightly Finn could feel his ribs give. "Where did you come from? How did I come to deserve this?"

"I've always been here," said Finn, feeling the rasp of Puck's stubbly hair on his cheek. "It's just me."

"Yeah," said Puck, holding him out from him to look at his face. "Yeah, it's you." He ran a finger down the line of Finn's cheek, his chin. Finn felt his heart rise up into his throat, and swallowed, then held him close again.

"Did… did you come?" he asked. Puck shook his head, smiling.

"You didn't tell me to," he murmured into Finn's ear.

"You mean I – you would just…" Finn was at a loss. "You can just come, or not come, whenever? How do you _do_ that?"

"I don't know if I can, like, on demand," Puck said, shrugging. "I just know I didn't because you didn't tell me to."

"Wow." Finn thought a minute, then said, "Take off your jeans and lie down on your side, here." He pointed back at the bed. Puck obliged, moving a little stiffly as he shucked his pants on the floor. Finn peeled back Puck's grey boxer briefs and slid them off, a little worried about what he'd see, but Puck's backside was barely pink. He ran his hand along the pink spot, and Puck squirmed a little.

"We are definitely going to do that without pants on next time," he assured Puck, who looked at Finn with anticipation and gratitude. Finn glowed inside. _I made him feel that way,_ he thought, and it was heady and wonderful.

Finn knelt on the floor in front of Puck. He was a little embarrassed to be staring so openly at a part of him that, for years, he'd had to avoid looking at. But then, he remembered his hours, days, cuddling with Kurt, trying everything they'd wanted to try, without shame, and he shook his head, laughing. "What is it?" Puck said.

"I've never done this before," he said.

"Do you want to?" Puck asked. "You don't have to."

"I wasn't sure if I wanted to, before, but now… I think I do." He licked his lips and touched Puck's thick erect cock with two fingers. Puck made a soft sound and closed his eyes.

"We didn't… talk about… safe sex." Puck was speaking only with an effort.

"What?" Finn's mind had a hard time wrapping around that idea, which he thought was mostly about not getting a girl pregnant. _That wasn't going to happen here, right?_ he thought, but did not say, because it sounded lame even to him.

"I've had a lot of sex, Finn," Puck said, and it didn't sound like bragging, just a fact. "I've been tested for HIV and other stuff, and it's all negative, but tests can be wrong. I don't want to put you at risk."

"Oh." Now Finn felt even lamer, because he hadn't even thought about this. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Kurt about barriers. "Do you want to wait? Until we can talk about it, with Kurt?"

Puck looked torn, but he nodded. "Yeah."

"You're a bigger man than me," said Finn, and he licked his palm.

"I – ohhhhh! I would have to disagree with that," said Puck, moaning as Finn took his cock in his hand. Finn crawled around to lay behind Puck on the bed, reaching over to stroke him, cautiously nestling up to press against his raw behind. Puck moaned again.

"Is that okay?" Finn asked.

"_Yeah," _Puck said, in a deep, contented voice. Finn wondered if a lion could purr. He felt himself twitch a little, in response, and Puck pressed back against him. They made twin sounds of appreciation, then both of them busted up, laughing.

"God." Finn said, burying his face in Puck's neck, feeling like his face was going to crack in half from smiling so hard. "I fucking love you so much, man."

"Yeah," said Puck, and there was passion and thanks and truth in that single word. He could only twist his head around a little bit, but Finn managed to give him a little kiss on the corner of his mouth. Puck thrust into his fist and he sped up, giving him a little more pressure.

"Okay," Finn said, getting right up close in Puck's ear, and Puck shivered. "Ready?"

"... Ready?" Puck asked.

"Say yes, sir," he prompted.

"Oh," said Puck, and he caught his breath. "Oh, shit, Finn."

"Say it."

"_Yes, sir."_

"All right, then. Come. _Now." _Finn made it a command, short and sharp, and Puck let out a long, low moan, and shot a heavy load all over his shirt and the bed and Finn's hand.

"All right," Finn said again, and this time it was an expression of approval and admiration. Puck laughed, helplessly, incredulously, and lay back against Finn, panting.

"Guess I can," he said.

"Guess so," said Finn, and rolled him over toward him to give him a proper kiss, at last.


	13. Chapter 13

Then: Last Summer (Santa Fe, New Mexico)

Nicole answered on the third ring. "House of the Ampersand; this is N."

"Uh, hey, Nicole… it's Puck."

"Hey, gorgeous," she said, and he could hear her lazy smile over the phone. "What's up with you?"

"Just wondering if you… well, you guys… if you're busy tonight."

"Well, it's Daphne and Alex's date night, but I'm free. Wanna bring your guitar over? We can jam. I'll make you dinner."

"Sounds great. Let me cook, though. What do you like?"

"Just about everything, and then some," she drawled, making him laugh.

"I'll come up with something. So… date night? Is that a regular thing?"

"Yeah, it's the only way we've figured out to make sure each part of the family gets what they need. See, I'm a major extrovert, and so's Alex, but Daphne needs lots more alone time to recharge. So, Daphne gets two dates with herself a week – protected time, that trumps other stuff unless it's really important. Each of us have one night with the other: me and Alex, Daphne and Alex, me and Daphne, and one night is for all three of us together. We try to do what Daph wants on those nights since she gets kind of burnt out if we have parties all the time."

"Huh." Puck thought about that. "Makes sense. What's the last night for?"

"We can bring home dates." Nicole's teasing voice was back, and Puck blushed. "Most of the time we try to only bring home folks who we think would like all of us – like you, gorgeous. We just don't have time to date people who don't want all of us."

"Well, lucky for me, you're all pretty awesome."

"And we know you're only around for a short time, so I'm guessing we'll be breaking some rules when it comes to you. Like, I bet Alex and Daph will want to come home early when they find out you're over. As if I would share!"

"Hmmm. What other rules should I be aware of, just in case I want to break them?"

"Number one, call Alex sir when you look in his eyes. Number two, Daphne is allergic to nuts and shellfish. Number three, girls always come first, and at least twice. Number four – "

"Okay, okay!" he laughed. "I'll see in an hour."

* * *

><p><span>Now: Saturday Morning, 10am<span>

Kurt hesitated on Puck's doorstep, and almost turned around and went home, but eventually he gathered his courage and rang the bell. An ordinary-looking girl he didn't recognize answered the door. He guessed she might be a mature ten or a skinny twelve.

"I'm Sarah," she said. "Are you my brother's other boyfriend?"

Kurt did what he guessed would be a credible impression of Finn's constipated deer look. "Um," he said.

"Come on in," she said, opening the screen door for him. "They're in the kitchen. My brother's going crazy in there." She grinned, giving him a signature Puckerman once-over. "You must be awesome in bed for him to cook like _this."_

"Sarah! Are you scaring Kurt?" came Puck's yell.

"He came inside," she yelled back. "That's gotta count for something."

"He couldn't risk missing breakfast," said Finn, coming around the corner. The smile he had was just for Kurt, and Kurt felt his heart skip. Finn held out a hand, and Kurt took it, smiling shyly back.

"Good morning, Finn."

"Hey, Kurt," said Finn. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Not really," Kurt confessed. "You?"

"Uh, I got to bed a little later than I expected," he said, flashing eyes at the kitchen, "but the sleep I got was… good." He squeezed Kurt's hand. "But I missed you."

"Okay, I can already tell the cheese factor in here is going to exceed my tolerance," Sarah said, standing and inserting a set of earbuds. "Tell Noah I'm going to hide in my room with Lady Gaga and a clove cigarette until breakfast is ready. And don't you dare eat all the muffins. Those are to die for," she added conspiratorially, touching Kurt on the arm. He tried a smile, but guessed it came out looking more like he was trying not to throw up.

"Bye, Sarah," said Finn, smiling, as she disappeared down the hall.

"She's… something else," said Kurt. Finn chuckled.

"She's hilarious. I think she's a little jealous that I'm dating Puck and not her. She's always had a little crush on me."

"Well, who would blame her?" Kurt said brightly. Finn kissed him on the forehead, and Kurt leaned in to put an arm around his waist and rest against his side. He tried to be calm.

"Are you okay?" Finn said.

"Of course," Kurt said. "Why wouldn't I be?" Finn smiled again, leaning in for a kiss, and Kurt relaxed a fraction more.

"Come on in. Wait till you see what Puck has in store for us." He waggled his eyebrows at Kurt. "I've been banished from the kitchen for the past hour, but it smells awesome. Are you hungry?"

"Famished," Kurt lied, feeling his stomach clench.

They walked into the family room and sat at the table, just outside the kitchen, and listened to the sounds of running water, banging kitchen implements and whirring motors. In and around them they could hear snatches of Puck singing "I'm A Believer."

Puck came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a yellow towel. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a wifebeater and an apron that said _I'd tell you the recipe, but then I'd have to kill you. _ "Hummel," he said, nodding. "Glad you made it. I thought maybe you wouldn't show."

"I spend all my waking hours thinking of ways to surprise you, Noah," he replied.

Finn laughed nervously, looking from Puck to Kurt. "So, what's the plan?" he asked.

"The plan is that breakfast will be ready in 45 minutes," said Puck. "Until then, come with me." He walked down the hallway. Finn shrugged at Kurt's quizzical look, and they followed him upstairs.

"Oh my god," he heard Finn say.

Kurt had never been in Puck's room before, but he suspected that it seldom was as clean as it was right now. Also, he doubted it was usually strewn with rose petals or adorned with lighted candles on every surface. The room was bare, but each table was covered with a scarf or runner, and there was a vase of fresh white roses on the desk. A basket of goodies sat beside the bed, which was dressed simply in a white sheet and two pillows. Clean towels and a washing bowl were next to the bureau. Kurt heard quiet jazz flowing from an undisclosed location.

"Luckily for you, I had help," said Puck, grinning, "or else it would have been just a pile of condoms and some flavored lube."

"How – did you manage this?" Finn looked like he'd been pole-axed. "How did you have time –"

"While you guys were busy singing your hearts out to one another last night, I did some shopping," he said. "Daphne's a romantic. She talked me through it. I set things up while you were in the shower this morning."

Finn sat down heavily on the neatly made bed. "Last night? But that was before we talked. How -?" He turned perplexed eyes on Puck.

"I took a chance," Puck shrugged. "Now, you guys are not allowed to leave this room for any reason, except to use the bathroom, until I call you for breakfast, understand? I want to hear some serious fucking around." He gave them a smile, a short wave and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Who's Daphne?" Kurt asked. Finn shook his head, stunned. Kurt wrapped his arms around his chest and looked around uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "Finn, we need to talk. I did a lot of thinking last night after you left, and I don't think this is going to –"

"Kurt!" Finn said, looking hurt. "Didn't we already talk about this? Didn't you sing that song to me? Didn't you hear me sing to you?"

"Finn," Kurt said, patiently. "You're not listening. I wasn't… thinking clearly last night. This is a bad idea."

"Why? Because it's not the way everybody does it? Since when did that stop you from doing something?"

"There may be a reason why nobody else does it this way, Finn," Kurt said, and his voice was sharp. "It's a good way for somebody to get hurt."

"You're afraid I'm going to hurt you," Finn spat out, "so you're going to hurt me first?"

Kurt closed his eyes at the barb. "I'm just trying to be realistic here, Finn."

He heard Finn take a measured breath. "Kurt - do you love me?"

Eyes still closed, Kurt looked at the floor. "Yes – of course."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I love you," Kurt whispered.

"Look at me!" Finn demanded. Reluctantly, Kurt looked. Finn's face was naked, full of raw emotions: concern, fear, anger - and, yes, love. "Last night you said you chose me, whatever happened."

"It was a mistake, Finn."

"I don't believe that!" Finn shouted. "I need you, dammit! And I'm sorry if that scares you. It scares me, too. But I can't ignore how I feel about you. The things we had – the time we shared, and the – the closeness I felt with you – I've never had that with anyone before. Kurt, not anyone. I want it back. I want it with _you."_

"And Noah? What do you want with him?" His voice was quiet, calm, but he could feel all the emotions roiling just below the surface.

"He – he needs things from me," he said. "Things I can give him. I want to give them to him. It fills something inside me. It's – it's _different,_ Kurt. I can't explain it. I just know – I want you both. I love you both. One doesn't change the other."

"But it does change things for me," said Kurt. "You loving him, that's good, because it makes you so happy. I can see how happy you are with him. I can see how fulfilled you are." He looked away. "I just don't want to be around to see it."

"How does my love for him threaten you?" Finn said.

"Because I know you don't love me that way," Kurt said. Finn gave him a look so full of confusion and hurt that Kurt almost relented, but he shook his head. "You can't deny it. Things are different between us than they are between the two of you."

"That's because we're different people, Kurt, not because I love you any less," Finn argued, but Kurt shook his head again.

"I'm sorry, Finn, I just can't. I'm sorry." Kurt didn't look at Finn as he opened the door, slipped out, and closed it again, leaving Finn alone in the candle-filled room.

Kurt came quietly down the stairs and headed for the door, but a voice in the family room stopped him. "Your sweater is in the closet."

"What?"

"Your sweater, the blue one. Finn brought it over from his house last night." Puck came forward. He'd taken off the apron and put on a green silk shirt. His eyes looked very green against the color of the fabric. "He took it out of his closet at home, and held it carefully, the whole time he talked with Quinn. He brought it here and hung it up, so it would be waiting for you today."

"Why are you telling me this?" Kurt asked, flatly.

"Because even though there were other things he needed to deal with, other difficult, complicated, important things – Quinn – me – he didn't forget your sweater. He didn't forget how to take care of it because that's what _you_ needed." Puck looked at him, and Kurt felt oddly exposed. "He won't forget what you need because you're important to him. It doesn't matter how much I need him and occupy his time. He's always going to give you what you need."

"And how do you know what I need, Noah?"

"Because it's the same thing I need," Puck said. "You understand me because you _are_ me. You need it, too."

"I don't," said Kurt.

"Yes, you do. You need him to take care of you and make everything all right. You need him to take you out of that place where you're hurting, or angry, or scared, to a place of love, and trust, and acceptance. You need him to make you feel like you're the most important person in the world to him, and have it be _true."_

Every word was a needle in Kurt's gut, a puncture that drove him further back, until he stumbled and sat back on the couch, gasping. "Noah – stop –"

"You need him to kiss you, and hold your head still, and use his lips and tongue, and whisper in your ear how much he wants you. You need his hands on you, his words, telling you what to do, how to get what you need. You need him to fill you up, your mouth, your ass, your whole self. You need to _let go, _and have him there to catch you."

"Oh, god, Noah," Kurt said, lashing out, his fists coming up to protect himself, but Puck was there to catch them, to force them down, and to hold him in iron-strong arms while he cried.

"Finn can do this for you. He wants to. He needs it. And I need you to have it with him. You make this whole, Kurt. I need you. Finn needs you. Please…" Puck's voice cracked, and even through his pain, Kurt could see the ache, the desperate desire on Puck's face, and the tears that slid down his cheeks.

Kurt felt compassion and a strange calm overcome his anxiety, and he opened his arms to take Puck inside them. He could feel Puck release, to _let go_ – was this what he was talking about? – and begin to cry in earnest, unselfconscious sobs that Kurt had never expected to hear from Puck.

"Noah," he breathed, wrapping his arms around Puck, holding him while he cried. How the tables had turned, he didn't exactly know, but Kurt was no longer scared. He watched Puck cry and remembered how Finn had stroked him, so he did that, he put one hand on Puck's hair (_soft, so soft – _he was amazed) and brought it down his neck, his strong back, and back up to do again, and again. Puck's sobs turned into long, shuddering breaths that came in rhythm with the stroking hand, and he leaned into Kurt's touch.

"Please," he said – asked, _begged_ Kurt, "please, god, don't leave us. Please. We need you. I need you." He turned his face up to Kurt's, imploring, shameless, lips trembling and wet with tears, and Kurt held his face and kissed him, not a gentle kiss, but hard, firm, with passion that seemed to well up inside him. Puck gasped against his mouth and pulled Kurt closer against him.

"You say I'm like you," Kurt said fiercely, "that I want those things from Finn. That may be true. But I'm also like Finn." Puck whimpered. "You need this?" A nod, quick. "Will you let me give it to you?"

"Oh," said Puck, and he grew very still.

"Tell me yes," Kurt said, and it was a command.

"Yes, please, yes," Puck whispered. A sudden smile bloomed on his face, completely unbidden, and he laughed, amazed. "Yes, Kurt."

"That's good," Kurt said, petting his face. "That's very good."

"Thank you," Puck said, wrapping Kurt in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, thank you." He lowered his head so it was in Kurt's lap, just for a moment, and Kurt had a dizzy vision of Puck on his knees there, but it was so fleeting that he wasn't sure of it a moment afterwards.

"I have to go finish breakfast," he said seriously. "I can keep things warm for a little while, maybe twenty minutes. You have to go upstairs and talk to Finn. He's going to need some help. He's very hard on himself." Puck grabbed Kurt's hand and kissed it, once, twice. "_Thank you."_ His eyes met Kurt's, and Kurt could still see that fire they had shared, burning there.

"Thank you, too, Noah." Kurt squeezed his hand, hard, holding it to his chest. Puck laughed again, shaking his head. He leaned in to Kurt and put his lips up to his ear.

"I love it when you call me Noah," Puck whispered. Kurt shivered. Then Puck dropped his hand and went back into the kitchen.

Kurt climbed the stairs he'd walked down just minutes ago, feeling the change in himself, almost tangible. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Puck, days before, in Kurt's father's shop.

_You didn't expect it, did you? _Puck had said_. You thought you could do this to me, and not get changed yourself. I don't think it works that way. Kurt, I'm different. I'm better._ That was just how it was. _He_ was different. _He_ was better. And it was because of _Puck._ How had that happened?

He accelerated, up the stairs, down the hall, and burst into the bedroom where Finn was lying, wrecked, on the bed. "Finn –" he gasped. Finn sat up, eyes wild with hope, streaming with tears.

"Oh, baby –" Finn cried, and Kurt couldn't even protest as he took him and held him and kissed him, and it was _so good, so good._

"I'm sorry, I was so scared," Kurt sobbed, and he knew he was _letting go,_ he was letting Finn hold him up, and it was safe, it was okay, he wasn't going to fall.


	14. Chapter 14

For the first few minutes, they didn't do anything except hold and kiss one another. Finn wrapped Kurt up in his limbs on the bed and they just stayed together like that. Finn seemed to need a little time to recover his ability to talk, but he listened to Kurt tell him what had happened downstairs, in those eight minutes.

"The things he _said,_ Finn, they just went right inside me, right past the scared and the angry and the hurt and dug into what was there underneath," Kurt said, as Finn kissed his eyebrows and neck. "I don't know how he did that, but suddenly it didn't matter how much I knew it wasn't going to work, it just didn't _matter._"

Finn nodded, squeezing Kurt a little tighter, moving on to kissing his ears. He made a "mmmmm" noise, encouraging him.

"It was something he said, days ago, that came back to me," Kurt said, a little breathless from being squeezed (he was doing plenty of squeezing back, but Finn was firm and hard to squeeze; it was like trying to compact a futon mattress). "He said I was part of things, and that I'd… _changed _him. That he was different, better." Kurt leaned in to Finn's kiss and gasped as it hit a particularly sensitive spot. "That's just how I felt. I went in and came out _different._ All the junk, the fears, the mean feelings – they were gone. Or not gone, exactly, but _transformed,_ now I could see what was really going on and that stuff just didn't mean a damn thing."

Finn nodded his understanding, petting Kurt all over his head and back and face. Kurt felt breathless with awareness and hypersensitive from all the stimulation, but he wasn't complaining. He felt alive, floating on a pool of sensation. _It's all good,_ he thought, and giggled helplessly. "God."

"What did he do?" Finn asked, speaking for the first time.

"What do you mean?"

"To you. To get you there. What did he do?" Finn had moved around to hold Kurt from behind, and he was stroking the front of him, as though he was trying to paint every last inch of Kurt's body with an invisible brush. Kurt remembered Puck's words, hammering down his defenses, and then the way they had connected with a kiss.

"He – he talked. Then we – we kissed, and he started to cry. We were both crying, but when I felt him crying, I kind of took over, and he let go. Finn, he trusted me. I could feel it. He just let it all go."

Finn nodded. "I know," he said, behind him, and Kurt could feel his breath and the rumbling of his throat as he spoke. "Isn't he beautiful when he does that?"

"_Yeah,"_ Kurt moaned. "Yeah, he is." He felt Finn's hardness pressing against his back as he held him, and he reached around behind himself to stroke the long, straight line of his cock inside his jeans. Finn moaned back and cupped Kurt's cock in his big, strong hands, and Kurt thrust against them. They rocked that way for a moment, grunting and gasping.

"I want to feel you," Finn said. "Let's take off these clothes."

They pulled apart and stripped as quickly as they could, then came back together like two magnets, drawn to touch along as many surfaces as possible all at once.

"God, I love the way you feel, Kurt," said Finn. "There's nothing like holding you. It's like we…"

"… belong together," said Kurt and Finn together. Finn nodded, overcome. Kurt touched the tears that came to his eyes and kissed them.

"Is that dumb?" he whispered. "To feel that way?"

"Nothing we feel is dumb, Finn," Kurt assured him. "I think it's… amazing."

"I'm scared to want you so much," Finn said, and Kurt felt a thrill at this confession. "I miss you so much when we're not together, and I can't stop thinking about you. I've never felt like this about anyone before."

_Not even Puck?_ he wanted to ask, but he didn't. He knew it didn't matter, at least in this moment, it really didn't, because Finn loved him.

"I feel exactly the same way, Finn," he said, breathless, and it was true. He reached around Finn's long body, up as high as he could to touch the top of Finn's head, then brought his hands down, along his hair, his neck, his back, down to his ass. His body remembered taking the same action with Puck, but with entirely different results. Finn growled and thrust against Kurt.

"I want…" Finn said, and groaned. "I want to be inside you."

Kurt felt as though he'd been doused with a bucket of lust. His entire body was on fire, all at once. The muscles in his buttocks clenched, contracted, and he felt an echoing in his cock. "Ohhhh," he said, helplessly, pressing up against Finn.

"But I have no idea what I'm doing," Finn said. "I don't think we have time to… figure it out, right now."

"It's okay," Kurt said. Their bodies rubbed in tandem spots along each other's hips as they found a familiar rhythm. "We have time to figure it out later. Now - just tell me again what you want to do… to me."

Finn licked his lips and brought them right up to Kurt's ear. He was panting. Kurt felt each puff of breath on his ear, and all the way down inside him, like miniature explosions in his gut. "Baby," he whispered. "I want to fuck you so bad."

"Oh, god, _yes,_ Finn," Kurt moaned, gasped, and came all over Finn's stomach. Finn brought his hand down, feeling the hot wetness of Kurt's orgasm, gripped his cock, and stroked just once before crying out and covering Kurt's chest and belly with his own come.

They lay on the bed together, slippery and spent, but unwilling to part just yet. Kurt felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

"So all that stuff you said before, Kurt," Finn said, "about not wanting this… about how you'd changed your mind about being here with me, with us… that's gone now?"

Kurt was silent, considering. "I can't promise it's gone," he said, as honestly as he could. "I still have those fears. I don't feel them right now, though."

"You love me?" Finn said, and Kurt nodded.

"Yes, and god help me, I love Noah, too." He shook his head. "He sees me, just as I see him." Kurt hesitated. "Something happened, downstairs."

"What?" said Finn, interested but unconcerned, stroking Kurt's hair with his clean hand.

"He said – he said I'm like him. That I want the same things he wants, from you."

"Do you know what he's talking about?"

"I think so." Kurt bit his lip. "He wants – you to control him. To take over, to be in charge."

"Do you want that?"

"Sometimes." Kurt was surprised that the idea wasn't nearly as scary as it had seemed earlier. "But sometimes I want – to be in control. To be the one in charge." He looked at Finn. "Noah said I could do that, for him."

Finn took an audible breath. "Yeah? You want that?"

"I do," Kurt said. "Or at least I think I do."

"Do you want to do that… with me?" Finn wondered. "Be in charge, with me?"

The idea was thrilling and frightening at the same time. "I don't know," he said.

"I'd try anything with you, baby," Finn said, kissing him. "I think we could do anything and it would be amazing. You make me feel safe, and powerful, like anything is possible."

"Really?" Kurt said, and his voice squeaked. He felt the tears threatening again.

"Yeah," said Finn simply. "I love you." They kissed, gently, slowly, but with no less passion than before. Then Kurt heard Finn's stomach rumble, and they laughed.

"You hungry?" Finn asked.

Kurt suddenly realized he was starving. "Yes," he said. "Let's go clean up. Noah's waiting for us."


	15. Chapter 15

(Author's note: Warnings for food porn. Also, the sex scene that wouldn't die. These boys are insatiable. Thanks to Tammy for teaching me about champagne cocktails. Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>The table was set and Sarah was already eating when they got downstairs. "You guys take way too long," she complained. "I thought guys were supposed to come faster than girls."<p>

Kurt turned beet red and flashed an appeal at Finn. Finn was unsuccessfully attempting not to laugh. "That's a little personal, Sarah," he said, trying for stern, but barely touching jolly.

"Oh, yeah, Hudson," she said, rolling her eyes. "You come into _my_ house an have a secret tryst _without_ my brother in _his bedroom,_ and you're saying I'm getting a little personal?" She shook her head, taking another bite. "Unbelievable."

"Somehow I don't think it counts as a secret tryst if they did it with my knowledge and consent," Puck said, bringing out a platter containing something delicious-looking. He set it on the table and licked his finger. "Careful, it's hot."

"That's what he said," said Sarah, grabbing the spoon. "Oh, snap!"

Puck made brief eye contact with Finn and Kurt. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," said Kurt, smiling tentatively. "It's good."

"Better than good," Finn agreed, reaching for a muffin. "You're a miracle worker, apparently."

"No details, please," said Sarah. "I'm trying to eat."

"Later," Puck promised. He pointed at each dish in turn. "Feta, roasted pepper and basil muffins."

"To die for," Sarah said with her mouth full.

"No commentary, squirt. This one is mushroom-poblano fritatta. It's a little spicy. And this one is crème brulee French toast."

"With peach reduction," added Sarah, and Puck swatted her with the towel. She squeaked and happily took another muffin.

"Noah, you've outdone yourself." Kurt touched Puck on the arm, and Puck beamed. He leaned down and gave Kurt a chaste kiss on the cheek. Sarah watched, but didn't say anything, and her lips might have been smiling in the midst of chewing.

For a minute, there was nothing but the sounds of eating and the occasional expression of pleasure. "What's a reduction?" Finn asked, his mouth full of French toast.

"When you boil something down to make it thicker and the flavor more intense," said Puck, measuring a shot glass of gin and adding it to a metal shaker. He added a portion from a tall, silvery bottle and another from a bottle of orange liqueur, then squeezed a half a lemon into a bowl and added that too. He filled up the shaker with ice, covered it, and shook it.

"What are you making?" Kurt said, watching the process with interest. Puck took a bottle out of a bucket of ice on the counter and wedged it between his legs.

"Something a little naughty to go along with the nice," Puck said. "Nomayo. Gin, St. Germaine, aperol, lemon juice –" and he popped the cork on the bottle, making a raunchy sound that made Finn crack up – "and champagne."

"I won't even bother to ask for some," said Sarah. "Gin is seriously nasty."

Puck shook the shaker again and strained the cocktail into three martini glasses, then topped each one with champagne. "There's a bottle of not-wine in the fridge, if you want to toast with us." Sarah scrambled into the kitchen to retrieve it while Puck set a glass in front of each of the boys, and finally took a chair at the table.

"What are we toasting?" said Kurt, putting his nose into the fizzy drink, which had a pretty reddish-orange color. It smelled like flowers and grapefruit.

Puck just looked at him affectionately and didn't say anything. Kurt felt the heat creeping up his neck. He looked back at his plate, took a breath, then looked back up and met Puck's gaze.

"You said yes," said Puck. "I'd say that's pretty much worth a toast right there." He looked at Finn, and the heat between them was palpable. "Anything else you think we should be celebrating?"

Finn stood, formally, and raised his glass. "To new beginnings," he said, "and old friendships. And possibilities."

Kurt raised his glass, smiling. "To… to trust," he said.

Puck nodded. "To us." He took a sip.

"To us," echoed Finn and Kurt, and it felt like a promise.

Sarah came back in with the bottle of non-alcoholic bubbly. "Can I have a fancy glass?" she said. Puck poured some into a tall champagne flute and she sat back down, satisfied.

"This is delicious," sighed Kurt, closing his eyes in pleasure. "I feel quite pampered."

"Get used to it," said Sarah. "Noah's not good for much, but he's a pretty awesome cook."

"I hear it's one of three things he's good at," Kurt said, gazing across the top of his glass at Finn, who was totally involved in eating. Puck snickered.

Finn looked up. "Huh?"

"God, Hudson, you're so clueless," said Sarah. "Can't you even pay attention when your boyfriend is trying to flirt with your other boyfriend?" She drained her glass. "I'm out of here before you try to make me do the dishes," she said to Puck. "Thanks for the muffins. Will you make that feta salad for dinner with the rest of the cheese?"

"Sure, squirt." He put up a hand and she high-fived him as she left the dining room.

"Bye, Sarah," said Finn.

Kurt smiled. "She seems to be okay with… things," he said.

Puck nodded. "She's cool. I figured it would be better to have her on our side rather than trying to keep it hidden from her. She notices stuff, you know? And she won't tell anybody until we say it's okay. We're used to keeping each other's secrets."

Finn sighed. "What?" said Puck.

"Well, I got that it pretty much needs to be a secret for now," he said. "But… I don't like secrets. I don't want to have to hide… _this_… forever."

Puck shrugged. "I don't care who knows, but I think secrets are kind of hot."

Kurt shook his head slowly. "I just don't think you boys fathom how hard this is going to be for you. Karofsky, Azimio and the rest of the puckheads – sorry, Noah – are going to unleash holy hell on you if they get wind of your relationship. You're going to need to plan for this. You need a strategy. You can't just walk into school holding hands."

Finn ran a hand through his hair. "I know. But – I love you, Kurt." Kurt felt a flush of excitement, hearing those words from Finn. He didn't think he could ever not want to hear them. "I don't think it's right to hide that." He turned to Puck. "And this thing with you – god, Puck," he said, and his voice broke. He leaned his mouth into his hand, knitting his brow.

"The two of you have always been friends," Kurt said. "And there's always been a certain level of – affection – between you two." They looked at him, and he shrugged. "I pay attention. I don't think most people would think to notice, though. You're boys' boys. Nobody expects you guys to be gay. I think you're safely closeted for now."

"I don't think so, Hummel. Finn's already taking shit for being your friend. And now - nobody with eyes could miss the way Finn looks at you." Puck crossed his arms. "I noticed it weeks ago."

"Weeks – really?" Finn said, nonplussed.

"Yeah," said Puck, "but I was too clueless to realize what I thought about it, then, or what it meant for me." He grinned. "I'm better now."

"You're amazing," said Finn, and Puck waggled his eyebrows suggestively at him. "But I got it. You and me - we should keep it undercover for now."

"Fine by me," Puck drawled. "That means I get to spend the night again, then?"

Finn grinned at Puck. Kurt felt a pang of jealousy, but he firmly set it aside. _He loves you,_ he thought. _They both do. _

"And I think we can all agree that we would draw a lot of attention at school if you and I suddenly became friends, Noah," said Kurt. Puck nodded. "So that just leaves you and me, Finn. My dad already knows. I guess the next person we need to tell is your mom. Otherwise my dad is going to call her up and tell her for us."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that." Finn took another enormous forkful of French toast, and swallowed. "Kurt… I don't know if I can tell my mom about you without telling her about Puck. It would just feel bad. I don't like lying to her. And… I think she would be okay with it. I mean, first she's going to freak out, but after that, she'll be okay."

Kurt swallowed. "I… I guess that means we need to tell my dad, too," he whispered. He took a shaky breath.

"Dude, your dad is beyond awesome," said Puck, and Kurt looked at him, surprised. "Let me do it. It'll take the heat off you. I don't mind being the bad guy. And I think he likes me, a little."

Kurt thought, then nodded. "Let's talk more about it, but… that would help, Noah. Thank you," he added stiffly.

Puck stood up and came to kneel on the floor next to Kurt's chair. "Hey – don't treat me like that, Kurt," he said intensely, getting right in Kurt's face. Kurt blanched. "I'm not doing you a favor. We're all here for each other. I need you to stay real, to really be _in_ this." He looked at Finn. "No pretending; no hiding. Not with us."

Finn shook his head in amazement. "How do you do that? How did you see what Kurt was doing?"

"Because he's me," Puck said, turning dark eyes back to Kurt. "And I love him."

Kurt took a gasping breath and leaned in to Puck, touching their foreheads together. He felt the fear recede, in the face of love and trust.

Finn came over and knelt down beside them, too, and brought his head in to touch both of theirs. It made a dark, private space, full of the warmth of their collective breath. "I'm here," Finn said, and put his arms around Puck and Kurt. They both leaned on Finn, and he held them up, strong, dependable.

Then they leaned back, and the space was gone, but the feeling of connection remained. They looked at one another with secret smiles. "Are you still… hungry?" Finn asked Kurt.

"Yeah," Kurt said, looking starry-eyed at Finn. Finn picked up his fork, took a piece of frittata and slowly brought the bite to Kurt's mouth. Kurt parted his lips and let Finn place the delicate concoction of mushrooms, eggs and poblano peppers on his tongue. He closed his mouth around the fork and slowly drew it out between his lips, humming with pleasure.

Puck watched them, mesmerized. "God, Finn - you're having sex with my food," he whimpered, and reached between his legs to adjust himself.

"Puck." Finn's voice was a command. Puck froze. "Hands off. Kneel right there on the floor." He pointed, and Puck immediately complied, hands behind his back. He looked anxiously at Kurt, then back at Finn but didn't move. Kurt felt a thrill. He thought Puck made a very pretty picture, kneeling there on the floor, in his green silk shirt, eyes glancing up at them.

"You can talk, or make noise if you want, but don't move," Finn said.

"Yes… sir," said Puck, and Kurt took a breath, hearing that from his lips for the first time. Puck looked at Kurt again, clearly torn. _He's trying to figure out who to listen to: me or Finn,_ Kurt thought, and he felt another thrill, right up his spine and into his head. It made him dizzy.

Kurt glanced at Finn, then got down on the floor, right in Puck's face, exactly as Puck had just done with him. "You're a very good boy," he said, cupping his cheek. "You do just what Finn says, and you'll make me so happy."

Puck looked at him with such love and relief that Kurt nearly cried. "Thank you, sir," he whispered, and Kurt kissed him gently. Finn made a noise of approval, and Puck moaned softly.

"Kurt," said Finn, and his voice was rich with desire. "Try this." He held out a bite of the crème brulée French toast. Kurt came back to sit beside Finn in the chair, leaving Puck on the floor to watch, helplessly, with mounting tension, hands behind his back.

"Is this really okay?" Kurt whispered to Finn. "He wants this?"

Finn leaned over to Puck. "Tell Kurt if you want this," he said. "Be honest."

"Yes, please, sir," said Puck in a rush. "Thank you, sir."

Kurt watched Puck while he opened his mouth and took the bite of sweet French toast baked in rich custard. It was just about the best thing his mouth had ever tasted. "Oh, god," he moaned, and Puck shifted his hips, thrusting. Finn reached down and gave Puck one sharp swat on his ass, and both Kurt and Puck both cried out simultaneously.

"You're supposed to stay still," said Finn, steadily. "Is that going to be too difficult?"

Puck paused, considering, and then shook his head. "No, sir." His arms had not moved from behind his back.

Finn went back to feeding Kurt from the assortment of delicacies laid out on the table. He held the glass while Kurt sipped more of the nomayo cocktail, wiping Kurt's soft lips with his finger. Puck whimpered, but he was still as a statue, eyes fixed on Kurt and Finn.

Kurt held out a morsel of feta, roasted pepper and basil muffin, which was moist and had an unbelievable texture. "These really are to die for," Kurt said. Finn used his tongue to take it off Kurt's fingers. Puck moaned louder, and Kurt and Finn smiled at each other. They leaned in for a long, slow, wet kiss. Kurt heard Puck's breath catch and speed up. He felt a little faint.

"He has no idea how beautiful he looks like this," Finn said, looking down at Puck with love and desire. Puck glanced up, eyes luminescent, face flushed, lips parted, and the look of shock on his face was heartbreaking. "Don't you think so?"

"Absolutely," Kurt said, and Puck gave him a look of disbelieving gratitude.

"I think we should move upstairs," Finn said, and stood. Kurt pushed in his chair and took Finn's hand. "Come on," Finn told Puck, taking his elbow, and he stood, unsteadily, but keeping his hands behind his back.

"You're doing so well," Kurt said to Puck, who flushed and smiled at him.

The candles had been blown out, but the room was still dim and pretty upstairs. Finn closed the door. "Take off your clothes," he directed, and Puck quickly moved to comply. Kurt resisted the desire to follow suit; Finn's voice was compelling. "Kneel here. Are your knees okay?"

"Yes, sir," said Puck, taking off the rest of his clothes and kicking them into the corner. Completely naked, Puck was something to behold. Kurt felt like he'd fallen into the pages of one of April Rhodes' muscle magazines. He avoided staring openly, just out of habit, but watched him from the corner of his eye. Puck had a nipple ring. His chest and abs were well-defined and his arms beautifully sculpted, folded neatly behind him. His erect cock bobbed between his bent knees, and his legs were strong and his feet flexed as he held his position on the floor. He watched Finn and Kurt under lowered lids, holding very still.

Finn slipped his hands under Kurt's shirt and helped lift it over his head, then Kurt did the same for him, running his hands down Finn's long torso. He could feel Finn's arousal plainly. "Do you feel okay about… doing stuff with me?" Finn asked. "With Puck here?"

Kurt nodded, feeling breathless. "It's – it's a turn-on," he said, and Puck's cock jumped. "Is it okay with you?" he asked Puck.

Puck seemed confused by the question, but he said, "Yes, whatever you like, sir."

"I really think he doesn't have any sense of _himself_ wanting things when he's like this," Finn whispered. "He just wants to do what I tell him."

The sense of responsibility loomed large over Kurt. "What if you tell him to do the wrong thing?" he whispered back.

Finn looked down on Puck, and Kurt was struck once again by the magnitude of love and care in Finn's gaze. "I won't," he said confidently. "I know what he needs."

Kurt swallowed. "Do you know what I need?" Kurt said, trying for teasing, but failing.

"I could guess," Finn said, "but I'd be more likely to get it right if you told me."

_I think I'd rather you guess,_ he thought, but put his arms around Finn and kissed him thoroughly. He felt Puck's eyes on them, watching, still holding so still. _Would I like that? _Kurt wondered. _Or would it just piss me off to have to sit there like that? What does he get out of sitting there? _

He found himself performing a little for Puck, making his responses to Finn a little prettier, a little hotter, a little louder than he would have if they'd been alone. He could hear Puck responding, his breathing speeding up, little involuntary noises coming from between his lips. Kurt was surprised when he realized how close he was to completion, and just as he was about to say something, he heard Puck cry out, "Sir," and Finn was down on the floor with Puck, helping him stand and unkink the muscles in his legs and arms, bringing him to the bed.

Finn looked at Kurt. "Do you want to help him?" he said, almost shyly. Kurt felt the rush of blood to his face and cock and nearly lost it.

"I don't know if he wants me to touch him like that," Kurt said to Finn, feeling the tingle in his chest and Puck's eyes on him.

"He does," Finn assured him. "And I get the idea you do, too. It's okay, Kurt," Finn added, gently. "There's nothing wrong here. Remember?"

Kurt remembered, but somehow that feeling was far away, clouded by fear, and other things. He looked helplessly at Puck, wishing he would get in his face again and pull him out of this cloud, but Puck was far away, too, lost in his own state of bliss and disconnection. _Puck needed him now._ He looked at Finn and nodded.

Abandoning self-consciousness, Kurt took off his pants and underwear and climbed on the bed next to Puck. Puck was sitting against the wall, still holding still, arms no longer folded behind his back, but still not touching his erect cock. _He's big, _Kurt noted, _bigger than me, but not as big as Finn. _"Noah?" he said softly. He thought Puck might be in a kind of dream state, but he responded quickly to Kurt's words. "Can I – can I sit close with you, here?"

"Yes, sir," Puck breathed. He opened his arms and legs and Kurt climbed into his lap, lifting his legs over Puck's hips, so they were sitting face to face, chest to chest, balls brushing. Kurt took hold of Puck's heavy cock with a gentle hand, and when Puck's eyes grew large and he looked overwhelmed, Kurt stroked his cheek and made _shhhhhh_ noises.

"You're such a good boy," Kurt crooned. Puck closed his eyes and shuddered under Kurt's ministrations. "Just relax. Anything you do will please me."

Puck breathed heavily, erratically, moaning, shifting his hips. "What's wrong?" Kurt asked Finn.

Finn nestled in behind Kurt, so his chest was pressed up against Kurt's back. Now they were two bookends, holding the volume of Kurt inside. "He's not allowed to come until you say," said Finn.

"Until – until _I _say?" Kurt said, sharply. Finn nodded.

"Do you want me to take care of this?" said Finn. Kurt bit his lip and considered the restless Puck in front of him. He caressed his sides, pulled his hips in closer, and folded his legs behind Puck, closer, closer, until their chests were touching, and he could kiss his open mouth.

Puck keened his distress. "Sir – I can't – please, I don't want – "

_He's close, and he doesn't want to disappoint Finn – or disappoint me, _Kurt understood. "Puck, listen carefully," he said, trying to pitch his voice with the same direction and command that Finn had done. "You've done such a good job. But now, it's time to let go. You have to realize you don't have any control over whether you come or not. It's not your say. You just let go, understand? _Let go. Now."_

With a great shuddering gasp, Puck collapsed onto Kurt, thrusting slickly into his hand, and Kurt's body apparently thought this was just about the hottest thing it had ever experienced, because he found himself gasping and thrusting and coming right alongside him. He could feel Finn's strong arms supporting them, holding them up, so they could both let go.

When they recovered, Kurt found Puck's face, buried in his neck, red and avoiding his eyes, but he wasn't going to have that, _no, sir._ He made Puck look at him.

"Please... don't ever be ashamed or embarrassed about who you are, Noah," Kurt said. "You're brilliant and beautiful, and if I can be half as real, half as true to myself as you let yourself be, I will be proud. You inspire me. You make me a better man, sweetheart."

Puck let out an incredulous laugh, his face glowing, but no longer afraid. "Sweetheart. _Really?_ Only you could pull that one off, Hummel." He ran a hand through Kurt's soft hair and drew him into a kiss.

Finn pulled Kurt back so that he was resting in his lap and used a warm washcloth to clean his chest, neck and hands. "Baby, you're incredible," he whispered into Kurt's ear. Kurt smiled, a little smug, a lot satisfied, and completely in love.

Puck grabbed the washcloth from Finn when he was done and did a quick once-over of his own sticky flesh. Then he rolled on his back on the bed, still naked, looking for all the world like a puppy ready to play. "That was fucking amazing," he groaned. "I could really get used to this."

"What happened to the sex shark?" said Finn, stretching out beside him.

"Still swimming," Puck said, groping Finn's cock, still erect. Finn batted his hand away.

"I'm fine, " he said, and Puck laughed in his face.

"Am I going to pass up an opportunity to double-team you? No way, dude." He looked at Kurt with a challenge in his eye. "You ready?"

"Um, okay?" Kurt said, giggling. They grabbed Finn's jeans on either side, amidst weak protests, and laid his legs bare in seconds, followed by his boxers. Puck crouched on one side of Finn, Kurt on the other. Their eyes met over Finn's body. It felt to Kurt for all the world like two lions prowling over their prey. Although, somehow, he didn't think Finn was going to mind these lions getting their mouths on his carcass.

"You know what's so hot about you, Finn?" Puck said, running a hand down Finn's abs, to his groin, and wrapped a hand around his thickening cock.

"What?" gasped Finn, clenching his fists in the bedsheet.

"Your boyfriend," he purred, and gave Kurt a wet, sloppy kiss right in front of Finn's face. Finn made a guttural noise and tried to intercept, but Puck blocked him while Kurt pushed him back onto the bed.

"Sorry, Finn, you get to sit this one out," Kurt laughed. "He's mine."

Finn sounded like he was swallowing a mouthful of something sharp, but he sighed, propped himself up with one arm behind his head and put the other one on Kurt's behind. "Do I need to use this?" he mock-threatened, giving it a light smack.

"Please?" Kurt cooed. Puck mocked putting out a cigarette on Kurt's ass, all the while keeping up his hand on Finn's cock. Their eyes met again, signaled, and Kurt went north to Finn's mouth while Puck went south.

"Oh, jee - mmmmm, " Finn said, his exclamation cut short by Kurt's blistering kiss. His hands came forward to wrap around Kurt, but again they conquered the arms, Kurt by kneeling on one and Puck by simply holding the other one down. _Guess those biceps are good for something,_ thought Kurt randomly. _Other than eye candy. _

"You know, you're a little handsy there, Hudson," said Puck, coming up for air. "Do we need to break out the scarves?"

Finn was sweating and his breath kept catching in his throat. "Only if you feel the need to decorate me," he said, but he returned both arms to rest behind his head. "I'm – uhhh, god, yes! – secure enough in my masculinity to allow that."

"Can I put some eyeliner on you too?" Kurt breathed in his ear, and Finn moaned, though Kurt was guessing that was related more to the activities of Puck's tongue. _Probably._

"How about some of that lip gloss," Finn panted, and it was Kurt's turn to moan and kiss him, hot and dirty. Then he reached down and touched Puck's head.

"Noah, sweetheart, how about we switch it up," Kurt said. "I'm running out of witty repartee."

Finn barely had time to gasp before Puck was stretched out next to him on the bed and Kurt's face was buried between his thighs. "Yeah, I think he may be just about cooked, Hummel," Puck said, rubbing a hand over Finn's lightly furred chest. He tweaked a nipple, then, as Finn's back arched and his breathing speeded up, he put his mouth down to Finn's ear, and whispered, "I love you so much."

"Oh, fuck," Finn said, and bucked into Kurt's warm, wet mouth. Kurt hummed, and Puck swung a leg over Finn's hip to hold him down.

"That's Puck, with a P, man," he said, kissing his ear. "Get it right. Or you could call me Noah, if you wanna be cool like your boyfriend."

"You don't play fair," Finn whined. "Two against one?"

"That's the deal, dude." Puck shook his head sadly, clicking his tongue. "Sure you're ready for this?"

"Oh, god, _yes,_ for the rest of my fucking life," shouted Finn, and Puck laughed out loud while Finn came in Kurt's mouth.

It wasn't until later, when they were nestled like three spoons (like measuring spoons, Puck later told them) on the bed, limbs wrapped up in each other - and Kurt agreed that _yes, _it did feel as amazing as he'd hoped - that Puck said to a drowsy Finn, "Dude, you didn't just, like, _propose_ to us, did you?"

"Ask me tomorrow," murmured Finn, not opening his eyes, and Kurt smiled.


	16. Chapter 16

Now: Saturday Afternoon

Sarah plopped down on the couch next to Puck. "What ass is this you're watching?"

"No ass, just cooking," said Puck, passing her the bowl of chips. "It's Floyd on Food, from the BBC."

She squinted. "What the heck kind of meat is that?"

"Rabbit. And bacon."

"Huh. Why don't they call bacon _pig,_ if they call rabbit _rabbit?"_

"Because there's also pork pig, and ham pig. It would get confusing if it was all just pig."

"Hmmmm." She crunched on a chip. "Did your boyfriends go home?"

"They're not my boyfriends."

Sarah looked at him for the first time. "Why not? Did you guys have a fight? Did you hurt Finn's feelings, because I swear I can still beat you up -"

"No!" Puck blocked her punch to his arm. "Everything's fine. Chill out."

"So why aren't they your boyfriends? Don't you, like, make out and stuff?"

"And stuff." Puck smirked.

"So?"

Puck shrugged. "I don't know. It seems like a pretty dorky name for… what we're doing."

"Maybe there's a better one." She ate another chip.

"Yeah, there are lots of other names. _Fuckbuddies. Friends with benefits."_

"How about _lovers?"_

Puck flinched. "Yeah. I don't think that really fits."

"Don't you love them?"

"Um." Puck looked at the floor.

"And they love you?"

"… Yeah."

"So what's the big deal? Sounds perfect."

There was a pause. "Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"You should probably stick with _boyfriends_ when Finn and Kurt are over."

"I thought you said –"

He set the bowl down, a little too hard. Some chips spilled on the floor. "I don't want to freak them out, okay?" He ran a hand over his head. "Yeah. Okay. I love them. But they don't need to hear it every five minutes."

She looked at the chips. "Why not?" She made a little pile with her hand, then crunched them up into dust. "Seems like when someone loves you, they'd want to hear you say it all the time."

"I guess they might get sick of… hearing it." He sighed and shifted in his chair.

"I don't think I've ever seen you worry about what girls were going to think about you," Sarah said. "Why are you worried about this?"

"Because it's different." His voice was low. "It matters."

"Seems like you have even more of a reason to be honest, then."

Puck reached over and grumpily repossessed the bowl of chips. "I totally don't know how you got so fucking smart."

"It's all that great nutrition you're feeding me," she said smugly, and changed the channel.

* * *

><p>Finn's mom was making lunch when he got home. "Hi, honey," she said, kissing him. "How was breakfast at Puck's?"<p>

"Awesome," he said, grinning. _Beyond belief. _ "And delicious."

She smiled fondly at him. "I guess you're too full to eat anything else, then."

"Well, maybe." He looked over her shoulder at the grilled cheese and potato salad on the counter, and took a quarter of a sandwich.

"Honey –" Carole put the spatula down. "I know Quinn is going through a lot, with the baby and everything, but I think she needs to make some kind of decision about what she's going to do next. She doesn't look happy. I'm a little worried about her."

"I know, mom. I tried talking with her last night, but she told me she didn't want my help."

Carole's brow smoothed, and she smiled. "Yeah, well, that's girlspeak for _I'm scared and I need someone else to handle it."_

Finn thought of Kurt and his distance. _It's not just girls who do that. _"I don't really know if I want to help her, Mom," he said. "She really hurt me. She told me the baby was mine, and I thought it was for a long time. But it wasn't. She knew it, and she lied to us all." He took another sandwich. "So I told her parents about the baby."

She nodded, soberly. "How did that go over?"

"Um, not… so well. I felt kind of bad about that."

"That's because you're an honorable, kind young man, even when you've been wronged." She put her arms around him and hugged him. "I'm sorry about what Quinn did. I can understand why she did it, but that doesn't make it right. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am," he said. "I was mad at first, but it's okay now." He took a deep breath. "I'm actually really happy."

She looked at him quizzically. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah." She studied his face, and a smile bloomed on her lips. "It's complicated," he said, and she shook her head.

"When is it not – oh, crap," she said, and rescued a blackened piece of grilled cheese from the pan. "Sorry. Who is it? Someone I know?"

"Uh, yeah," he said. "Someone you know."

"Rachel?"

"No, um –"

"It's not that Santana girl, is it, honey? She was a little –"

"Mom!" He took a deep breath. "I want to talk with you about this, but it's going to take some time. I don't think discussing it over grilled cheese is going to cut it."

"Okay," she said. She stopped and faced him. "This is a big deal, huh?"

"Very," he agreed. "Just – it's all good. Don't worry."

"That's kind of a mom's job, you know." She smoothed the front of his shirt.

"I'm going to try to talk to Quinn now," he said.

"Good idea. I think she's upstairs."

He kissed the top of her head – since his last growth spurt, this was much easier to do – and slipped through the kitchen door to the stairway.

Quinn was sitting in the chair by the window, reading a book called "Blubber." "Is that a story about whales?" he asked, stepping into the guest room.

"Kind of," she said, smiling a little. She put the book down and sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "I can't get comfortable like this. But I can't lay on my back, because that's bad for the baby, and I can't lay on my stomach, because _that's _bad for the baby."

"Sometimes there just aren't any good choices," he agreed. He sat on the edge of the bed, in front of her. "Quinn, I'm sorry about Puck, earlier."

She sighed again. "He's a douchebag, but he can be pretty nice sometimes. It's just -"

"The impulse control. Yeah. He's working on it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, I'm helping him with it."

"Good luck with that," she said, raising her eyebrows. "I figure he's kind of a lost cause."

"No," he said. "Not at all. I think he just needs the right motivation."

"Huh." She cocked her head at Finn and looked at him curiously. "You seem different. Like you found religion or something."

The images that came to his mind were not chaste ones. _Worshipping at the altars of Kurt Hummel and Noah Puckerman…_ He shook his head to clear it. "Something like that. I'm – " _What had Kurt called it?_ "It's sort of an identity crisis."

"You said you wanted to stop being popular." Quinn said. "How's it feel?"

"I haven't actually noticed," he said, honestly, "but I've been pretty busy with my own stuff."

She looked at her hands, knotted in her lap. "I wish I could _not notice,_" she said quietly.

"Quinn," he said, and stopped. She looked so restless, so miserable. _I can do something about this,_ he thought suddenly. _Like I do for Puck. _"C'mon," he said, and held out his hand. She looked at him uncertainly, but took it.

He led her downstairs to the garage, where he picked up his basketball. He threw it at her, and, surprised, she caught it. "Horse," he said. "You shoot first."

She dribbled the ball, finding her center of balance. "You'll crush me," she said.

"I'm bigger, but you're a better shot," he said. "And more coordinated."

"That's not hard, Finn," she said, with a pretty smile. She bounced it, once, twice, took a step, and shot. It swished through the net, and he grinned at her. She stood a little taller. "Okay," she said. "Think you can make that?"

They took turns, Quinn shooting from odd angles to try to get him to mess up, Finn sticking with the long-distance strategy and relying on his long arm. The teasing banter felt familiar and comfortable. He could see her relaxing, getting back into her body after being off the Cheerios.

"You're doing fine," he said. "Look at you – you've still got everything you had. Nobody can take that away from you."

"I don't have the uniform," she said, but he shook his head.

"You don't need it. Nobody who cares about you sees the uniform. They see you. You can dress yourself up however you want. It doesn't matter."

"Finn…" she said, and she hesitated. "A couple weeks ago, when you came to my house – you asked if I was your friend. I… I want to be, if you'll let me."

He held out his hand, and she took it. "You're still my friend, Quinn. I do care about you. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to lose sight of that, just because you're hurting. Things are a lot better when you can let go of that hurt and anger and fear and just feel – feel the love from those around you."

"Do you love me, Finn?" she said, and she bit her lip.

He hugged her, smelled her, remembered how easy – and how hard – things were when he was with her. "It's not the same," he said, "but yeah, I do, I still love you, Quinn."

"I love you, Finn." She was crying, barely moving, silent tears from a small, closed face. He thought of Kurt's openness, and the ballad he'd sung him, with every word directed at him. He thought of Puck, laid bare, emotionally stripped to the bone, and the kind of honesty and power and passion he had shown to Finn in the last two days. _I could never have that from Quinn,_ he thought. There was just no comparison.

"I'll be your friend," he said, and she cried those quiet tears until her eyes were dry.

* * *

><p><em>1 text – Finn Hudson<em>

_11:58pm: just talked with Quinn. shes doing OK. needs a friend. miss you already, baby._

_1 text – Mercedes Jones_

_12:33pm: boy where you been? I can't wait much longer, Kurt!  
><em>

Kurt smiled, stepping out of his car in front of Mercedes' house. The weather was getting colder, and he drew the top buttons on his tailored white blazer closer at the neck. _All the better to cover the dreadful hickey on my neck,_ he thought, and flushed as he suddenly realized he couldn't have said for sure who'd given it to him. He leaned on the bell.

"Kurt?" Mercedes opened the door and hugged him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am," he said. "We need to talk."

"Duh," she said, but she smiled at him as she let him into the house. She grabbed two Izze Sparkling Blackberries from the fridge and danced with him to the sofa. "What has been going on with you, Kurt? You never texted me back last weekend. Now you have got to tell me _something,_ or I am going to seriously lose it. Come on: is there a guy?"

He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, smiling. "Yes, there's a guy." She squealed and grabbed his hands. He laughed, feeling her excitement reignite his own. "You're never going to believe this."

"Kurt, I knew there was somebody. You've been so happy these last couple weeks. I could tell right away, but I wanted to give you time. But – this guy? Tell me about him!"

"I don't need to, Mercedes. You know who it is."

She looked at him, perplexed. "I don't –" Then her eyes grew wide, and she gave him an accusing stare. "You don't mean – "

"It's Finn," he said, tasting the name on his mouth for the first time. "Finn. He loves me."

Mercedes looked concerned. "Kurt, I thought you were over him," she said, but Kurt shook his head.

"No, Mercedes – really. This is not just wishful thinking. We've been – we've been seeing each other secretly for almost three weeks. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't – I wasn't sure how he felt, but he… he loves me." Kurt took a hitching breath, all the memories of the past weekend alive inside him. _They both do,_ he wanted to say, but held onto that last secret, unable to expose it all to the light of day.

Now Mercedes was stunned. "Finn? _Our_ Finn, football player, vocal lead? The guy dating Quinn Fabray? You're saying _he_ – plays for the other team?"

"Uh… yeah?" Kurt said hopefully. "I know it sounds crazy…"

"Kurt, it sounds more than crazy," she said. "I'm… well, I don't want you to get hurt. Messing around with straight boys is a good way to do that."

"I'm telling you, Mercedes," he shook his head passionately, "he's not straight. He – well, he says he's gay."

"Kurt Hummel turned Finn Hudson gay?" She shook her head, eyes wide. "I'm really having trouble with this, here, Kurt."

"Um, actually, no." _It was Noah who did that,_ he thought, and chuckled. "See, he's –" He shook his head. "You know, it doesn't matter. I don't even know if we're going to tell anybody else. I just didn't want to keep it a secret from you anymore."

She shook her head again, looking at his happy face. "You're really serious, aren't you? This is for real? _Finn?_" Kurt nodded. "Well, take my gaydar into the shop because it's seriously broke."

"He, um… he sang to me. A ballad." Kurt looked at his lap and smiled. "He came to my house and sang it to me through the bathroom door, in front of my dad. _Can't Fight This Feeling._"

"Kurt!" she gasped. "He didn't! Oh my god." Now she was regaining lost momentum. "What did your dad do?"

"He sat us down and had The Talk, how he loved me, blah blah, didn't want anything to happen to me, and that he trusted Finn, and that we, um, couldn't have any more sleepovers?" Kurt said, wincing. Mercedes died laughing. "No, seriously, Mercedes – we had a couple last week that were unbelievably –"

"Hold on, Kurt, this is getting a little TMI for me," she said, "and I can't believe I'm saying that, but this is _Finn Hudson_ we're talking about. I'm going to need to look him in the eye on Monday and say Hi, how you doing, and you boned my boy Hummel this weekend, hmm?" Now it was Kurt's turn to crack up.

"Not quite _that _far," he allowed. "Though it may be on the horizon."

She put a hand to her mouth. "Kurt. This is serious. Are you – are you guys being safe?"

"Yeah, we've talked about that…" Then Kurt stopped, thinking suddenly of Puck, the events of this morning. _It wasn't quite over the line, _he thought, _but they were going to need to revisit their agreement. And do some testing. What about monogamy? Er, polygamy…? What was it called, with more than one, anyway?_

She looked at his face, going through its acrobatics, and took his hands in hers. "Kurt?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you – sure this is what you want? It's not going to be easy."

"I know. And I won't lie and say it's been easy to decide that," he confessed. "I… think I want it. I mean, when we're together, it's easy. But when we're apart, I sometimes forget, and worry, or think maybe I made it all up, or that he really just – wants someone different." He closed his eyes. "This morning I went over to Noah's house and told him I'd changed my mind, but – we talked, and – "

"Hold up, you went over to _Noah's_ house? You mean Puckerman's?"

_Shit._ "Yeah, um… Noah, he knows about us. He… made us breakfast, gave us a place to meet, to talk, away from my house, since my dad, uh, knows."

"Wow!" Mercedes looked impressed. "Puck? I figured him for a major homophobe, you know? But he's pretty tight with Finn, so I guess he wants to support him, huh?"

"Something like that," Kurt choked, not dwelling _at all_ on the idea of Puck being _tight with Finn._ "He's been really… nice."

"So what made you change your mind, after you went over to call it off?"

Kurt remembered the three of them at the breakfast table, their heads pressed together, sharing a private moment with their breath and their promises on their lips. _To new beginnings, to old friendships, and possibilities. To trust. To us. _He thought of them later, himself nestled in Puck's lap, with Finn holding them up. _He's the one who makes it possible. We couldn't do it without Finn. He's the one we lean on. _

"Kurt?" she said.

"I have… an idea," he said. "For the ballad assignment. Mercedes, will you call Artie? We're going to sing a ballad… for Finn. And Quinn. All of us."


	17. Chapter 17

Now: Saturday Evening

They'd been working on the ballad all afternoon. Kurt was exhausted from dealing with Rachel, but his heart jumped when his phone rang and he saw the name _Finn Hudson_ appear. "Hey," he said, trying for casual.

"Kurt!" Finn didn't sound at all casual. He sounded freaked out. "Kurt, I think I'm going to come out to my mom. I really want you to come over."

"Finn – are you sure? I mean, do you really want me there?" Kurt was already throwing on his blue sweater.

"Yes. I definitely want you here. God. I don't know if I can do this." Kurt could hear him pacing. "What if she gets mad? What am I going to say about Quinn? What if she doesn't believe me? And what about Puck? He needs to come over too."

"Uh, Finn, you might want to take this one step at a time," Kurt said. "Maybe tonight, just tell her about you. Don't talk about us. That might be easier for her to handle."

"No, the whole reason for me even doing this is so I can talk about you! You're important. I don't want to keep you… us… in a closet." Kurt felt his heart bursting out of his chest at the indignation in Finn's voice.

"Maybe I should bring my dad over," Kurt said. "You know, take care of it all at the same time. And Noah's mom."

Finn was quiet. "Oh. Okay, I got it. Too much at once. Well… how about this. I'm going to tell her… then I want you to come over. And Noah. Not your dad, not yet. Maybe… tomorrow." He took a breath that sounded like a groan. "Shit, Kurt! What do I do?"

"You're doing fine," Kurt soothed. "It's going to be fine. Your mom will listen to you. She loves you."

"Yeah. Yeah, she does." His breathing slowed. "Okay. I can do this."

"Of course you can. Just think about all the stuff you did with me this weekend. This is a piece of cake by comparison."

Finn laughed, and Kurt thought the panic was almost out of his voice. "Baby, you're amazing."

"I love it when you call me that," Kurt whispered.

"Baby," Finn said, and he made it breathy and hot. "You're my sweet baby, Kurt."

"Oh, god," Kurt groaned. "I'm so ready to have phone sex with you, Finn, but this is_ really_ not the time."

"Later," he promised, and Kurt licked his lips. "I'll call you in a little bit. Thank you."

"My pleasure," said Kurt, and it was true.

* * *

><p>Puck got the phone call from Finn and promised he'd hang around at his house until Finn was ready for him to come over, but then he decided there was, like, <em>no way<em> he'd wait around for Finn to do this on his own. He was going to be there for his bro. Especially because it was partly about him.

He prowled around the house, scoping each window, until he found the one where Finn and his mom were talking. They were sitting at the dining room table, where Finn and Carole had only formal dinners. Puck knew Finn used to do his homework there after school every day. He remembered playing Monopoly and sorting Halloween candy on that table. He wondered if he could find time, soon, when nobody else was home, to lay Finn on top of that table and use his tongue to make him come. He grinned at the idea.

The window was close enough to where Finn and Carole were sitting that he would need to be under cover, so Puck used some old branches to make a blind in front of the screen. The weather wasn't really warm enough to have the window open, but he managed to pry it open a few inches, wide enough for him to listen but not enough for them to notice. He shivered a little, wishing he'd worn his football jacket instead of the camo, but the red would have been too easy to spot.

"Where's Quinn staying tonight?" Carole was saying.

"She went over to Santana's house for the night," said Finn. He looked nervous, but steady, as Finn usually was. Puck watched him scratch his neck, a familiar gesture. He wondered if Finn was conscious of it. _Probably not._ He wished he could touch that neck right now, and he felt his own neck in sympathetic response.

"I'm glad you two talked. She probably doesn't have too many friends right now."

"Yeah, but Glee is there for her. I want her to know we won't let her down."

Puck smiled as he thought of the ballad that Kurt, Mercedes and Artie had worked up this afternoon. It had been fun, singing with them, knowing the song was for Finn, for _his Finn._ He'd shared plenty of secret looks with Kurt, but they had played it cool. Kurt had been all director-like and in charge and stuff. It'd been hard not to respond to him when he was like that. He'd learned the choreography really quickly, anyway.

"So, I'm really intrigued, Finn," Carole said. "I know it's not Quinn, not Rachel, not Santana. I'm trying to think of that other girl in Glee – Tina? I thought she was seeing Mike."

"Yeah, she is." Finn scratched his neck again, then put his hand down and took a deep breath. "Mom, I've been having these… I'm going through a… " Another deep breath. "Mom. I'm gay."

There was a heartbeat, two. Puck looked through the window to make sure Carole was still there. Yes, she was, across the table from Finn, staring at him. "Finn? Did you just say… you're gay?"

"Um. Yeah." He laughed a little, took another breath, and this one was a breath of relief. "Yeah, I am."

"Finn…" She reached out hands, a little wildly, and grasped his hands tightly. "You… you're sure?"

"Pretty sure." He held her hands. "A couple weeks ago… well, actually a lot longer ago than that, but… I realized I was having some dreams. About, um, about someone."

"A boy," she prompted.

"Yeah."

"Finn, that's… that's really normal, for a young man to have dreams about a person of the same sex. It doesn't automatically mean you're gay." She didn't sound upset, just rational, calm.

Puck imagined how the same conversation would go with his own mom, and he couldn't fathom it. There would be yelling, he knew, because that was how his family rolled. He knew Sarah would show up for part of it and then she would take off. He suspected guilt would be part of it too. Then, probably, it would be all over and everything would be normal again.

"I know, Mom, but… these were pretty intense dreams. They were all about one guy, so for a while I wasn't sure if it was just him, or what. But my friend, Kurt – he helped me figure that out."

"Kurt? Is he the one you were –"

"No. It was, um. It was Puck."

"Oh," she said, and was silent for a moment. "Well, I guess I'm not really surprised about that."

"What?" Finn said.

"What?" Puck said, and then put his hand over his own mouth, but no one seemed to have heard him. _God, do I need a gag or something? Hmm. _

"Finn, you and Puck have been friends since you were in Cub Scouts. I have eyes. I could see how you were with him – I mean, it could have been nothing, or it could have been – something." She shrugged. "I guess it was something?"

"Yeah," said Finn, and he sounded dazed.

"And am I to assume that Puck feels – the same way? Did you talk to him about it?"

"Yeah," he said again. He laughed shakily. "Yeah, he does. That – I was pretty surprised, myself."

"Oh, sweetie." She squeezed his hand. "I'm really happy for you."

"Um, thanks. That's not everything, though."

"… Okay," she said, sitting back. "I'm ready. Hit me."

"Mom!"

"Well, that was a pretty big announcement, Finn Hudson," she said. "If there's more, it's going to be a bigger one. I'm just preparing myself. What is it?"

"I'm – well. When I was trying to figure – all this out, to find out if I was, you know, interested in more than one kind of donut –"

"Wait, what do donuts have to do with anything?"

"Um, never mind. I wasn't sure if I liked _guys_, you know, in general, or just this _one_ guy. So Kurt, we talked about it a lot, and he helped me, um, figure it out."

"So?" Puck could see Carole leaning in. "What's the verdict?"

"Yeah - pretty much gay." Finn laughed, and Puck was surprised to hear Carole laughing, too. _She loves him,_ he thought, looking at her face, and he felt overwhelmingly proud of Finn at that moment. He wished he was right there in the room with him, giving him a big hug. And a kiss. With tongue.

"So, Kurt?" she prompted.

"Yeah," Finn said, and that slow smile stole over his face, the one that came up any time Finn was looking at Kurt. Puck loved that smile. "We spent a lot of time together, you probably noticed –"

"Uh-huh," Carole said. "And if I recall, at least some of it was under the guise of studying. Am I to assume that at least a little studying actually happened?"

"Yeah!" Finn said indignantly. "Well… a little."

"Mmmmmm," Carole said. "Okay. We'll come back to that later. Go on."

"So, Kurt – he was really great, he helped me figure things out with Puck, it was really helpful. But I – I didn't realize that Kurt had, like, feelings for me until a few days ago. And I had feelings back. I – I love him, Mom."

"Oh, sweetie." Carole held his hand tighter, and he saw tears sliding down her face. Finn reached out a long arm and grabbed the box of Kleenex off the counter and handed it to her. She smiled at him and blew her nose. "Did you tell him?"

"Yeah. I – sang a song to him. A love song. You know that one by REO Speedwagon? His dad heard me. I promised I would treat him with respect and take care of him. Burt – that's Kurt's dad – he's awesome."

"Finn," she said, her voice wobbly. "That is so – you're a pretty incredible kid, you know that?"

"Well, it was a Glee assignment, and we were just lucky enough to draw each other's names out of the hat."

"Did he sing to you, too?" She looked breathless. Finn nodded. "Wow. I bet that was amazing."

"Yeah," said Finn, and Puck could tell he really meant it. Finn took a tissue from the box and wiped his eyes. "Actually, I didn't sing to him, first. I sang to Puck, and Kurt played the piano for us." Puck blew his nose on his sleeve, watching through the window. "That should have given me some kind of clue, huh?"

"Clue?"

"Uh, yeah – there's more. Puck – he helped me figure out how I felt about Kurt. Really, I had no idea, I thought we were just fu- er, friends with benefits. But we weren't. I mean, I loved him but I didn't realize it. But Puck realized it, and he said I could choose."

"Choose? You mean, him, or Kurt?"

"No, I mean I could choose to… love them both." Finn breathed deep again. "So I did. I chose that. And so did Puck. I told Kurt he could choose for himself, but that I chose them both."

"Finn, that sounds really complicated." Carole's voice was strained now. Puck watched through the window as she sat back, considering. "I think you could easily hurt someone, or yourself, trying to negotiate that kind of relationship."

"Yeah, I probably could," said Finn, "but the truth is, I can't imagine being without either of them. And it's not just each one – together, we're something. We're something more."

"Well, I'm not sure if you really want to give your old mother details about that," she said, breathing out. "Finn, you know I love you, and I trust you. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you're fair and kind. But maybe you're being too nice here. Are you sure you're not just stringing one of them along?"

"No," he said, and he grabbed at her hands, desperately. She looked surprised. "No, it's not like that. I need them, both of them. We are really good together. It's a little scary, and I think it's – it's hardest for Kurt – he tried to break up with us this morning – but Puck wouldn't let him."

"_Puck_ wouldn't let him?" Carole was sounding faint now. "So they are – the two of them – too?"

"Yeah," Finn said. "Do you see? It's complicated, but it's also – Mom, it's amazing."

She looked at him. "You're not just talking about sex, here."

"Mom!" He looked uncomfortable, but she went on.

"Finn, you've been real with me here, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. But I'm going to be real, too. It's not easy to hear you tell me about these things. I love you, and my first goal is to keep you safe. It's hard to think of you putting your heart into such a precarious position."

"It's not so pre—pre—It's not such a big deal, mom."

She touched his hair. "You're my only son, Finn. It's the biggest deal."

"I wanted to tell you everything, so there wouldn't have to be lies between us." He took another tissue. "I just want you to know what's going on. I love Puck. I love Kurt. We all love each other. That's the way it is!" His voice broke on the last word.

"Okay, sweetie," she said, and she came around the table and wrapped him in a hug. Puck recognized that hug. It was the one Finn gave him when he needed calming. "Okay. It's okay. I love you."

"I love you so much, mom," he sobbed.

Puck felt his own heart wrench at that sound, but he knew Finn needed to cry, just like he did sometimes. _Okay, a lot._ He was man enough to admit it. _Even badasses cry._

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve again. Now he was freezing, covered in snot, plus he had burrs on his pants. He considered going home to change, but he wasn't sure he could make it in time, and he wanted to be here for Finn.

He crawled out from under the brush and made his way back to the sidewalk, then pulled out his phone and texted Kurt.

_7:47pm: finn's done, he did gr8 _

_7:47pm: he needs us now – come over_

Kurt responded right away:_ Where are you, Noah? At Finn's house already?_

_Yeah,_ texted Puck. _I watched from the window. mad spy action. totally awesome._

_You're going to get in troooooouble._ Puck could hear him singing through the text.

_Oh fuck._ Puck knew it was true. He hadn't even considered it, but in retrospect, this was exactly the kind of thing Finn had been talking about when he said Puck should talk with him _first,_ before doing something.

_Maybe I can take care of it,_ Kurt sent, and Puck's cock did a little dance.

_O RLY?_

_I'll talk to Finn. See you in a minute, sweetheart._

Now Puck's heart was the organ dancing. He sat down to wait on the porch, and he held very still, wishing he had his guitar. A song would be good right now.


	18. Chapter 18

Finn answered the door and smiled at the two of them standing on the porch, holding hands. His heart stopped, did a flip, and went on beating.

"Finn," said Kurt, "how did it go?"

"It was… really good." He took Kurt's hand, then Puck's other hand. They stood, a circle of hands, as they had on that day, just last week. It felt like so long ago to Finn.

"Puck, you're freezing." Finn took Puck's hands between his and rubbed them. Puck leaned into his touch. "What happened?"

"Tell him, Noah," said Kurt, and it was definitely not a suggestion.

"I watched you come out to your mom from the kitchen window," Puck said immediately. "I didn't want you to do it alone." He looked at his feet. "Sorry," he muttered, not sounding at all sorry.

"I thought maybe I could deal with that," Kurt said, and his voice was light. Puck looked at Finn, and Kurt did too, inquiring. Finn nodded back slowly.

"That would be… great. I'm feeling a little done in, tonight." Finn rubbed the back of his neck. "Come on in," he said then, reaching out for Kurt's sweater. "Let me hang that up for you."

"Thank you," Kurt said, looking at Puck, who smiled meaningfully at Kurt. Finn either didn't notice or ignored them.

"My mom thought we might watch a movie," he said. "Something I don't have to think about too hard tonight, if that's okay. I, um, I have no idea how to decide who picks."

"Rock-paper-scissors?" Puck drawled, and Kurt laughed.

"How about you pick tonight, Finn, and then me next time?"

"Why am I last?" said Puck, clearly not at all annoyed. Nobody answered that question.

"Finn?" Carole came into the room, holding a monster bowl of popcorn and a 4-pack of root beer. "Hi, boys," she said, very casually. "It's nice to see you both. Hope you like popcorn."

"Hi, Carole," said Kurt, and he kissed her on the cheek, taking the bowl from her hands. She looked surprised, and touched her cheek.

"Hi, Mrs. Hudson," said Puck, grinning. He looked at Kurt, then quickly, almost shyly, kissed her other cheek.

Finn's face felt like it had caught on fire, and he noticed his mom's cheeks were equally red, but she was smiling. "Finn," she said, "why don't the three of you sit on the couch. I'll take your dad's chair tonight."

Finn chose Lethal Weapon as a sure winner – totally awesome action movie, for one, plus a young Bruce Willis (eye candy for all four of them), plus Alan Rickman for Kurt (he knew he had a thing for him). He slid it in the DVD player, then handed Puck the root beers. "Here, open these," he said.

"Yes, sir," murmured Puck, and Kurt had a coughing fit. Carole looked at them, mystified, but just smiled and shook her head.

Finn sat on one end of the couch, next to his mom, with Kurt in the middle and Puck on the other end. Kurt sat propped up with his elbow on Finn's leg and his feet under Puck's leg and made chatty commentary throughout the movie. Finn probably would have found this annoying if he'd been able to focus on anything other than Kurt's touch, but he tried to keep his mind on the movie as much as possible.

Finn thought they might get through the movie without any questions, but at one point she turned to the couch, still casually, and said, "So, Kurt, Finn tells me you've already told your dad about… this."

"Partially," Kurt said, hesitating. "He… doesn't know about Noah, but we're going to be telling him about… that… soon."

"Ah," said Carole. "Do you plan on telling your mom, Puck?"

"Yeah, probably," he said.

"I suspect all of us will want to have a conversation with all three of you about… appropriate behavior, expectations, that kind of thing," she said, and she only looked a little embarrassed. "Maybe we should do it all at once. Should we have everyone over for dinner, Finn, next week?"

"Yeah, that would be nice," said Finn, and he almost meant it.

"How about I cook?" said Puck. Carole smiled.

"I hear breakfast was a hit, Puck. That would be lovely. Thank you."

They watched the movie again for a while, but eventually she turned back to them.

"Boys… I can't begin to imagine how complicated this could be, but I want to say right now how much I am impressed by how comfortable you seem to be around one another. I'm just… I hope you are thinking through the implications of this. How it will be at school, and so on."

"Carole, I can't agree more," said Kurt. "We were just talking about that this morning."

"We've decided not to tell the kids at school about… my part," said Puck. "I don't really care. But Finn and Kurt, that's up to them to decide."

"I don't like lying, Mom," said Finn, "but we're going to go slowly, try to figure out a way to do it carefully."

She nodded. "That sounds like a wise course of action. You are all strong, capable young men, and I'm sure you will figure out what's best for you."

"Thanks, Mom." Finn felt so impressed with his mom, he got up and gave her a hug. She laughed and accepted the hug gratefully. Then she put the recliner back into its standing position, and stood.

"I'm going to head up to bed now," she said, still ultra-casual. "Would you guys please turn out of the lights before you head home? Kurt, I'm sure your dad won't want you to be here too late."

"My curfew is in 45 minutes, Carole," said Kurt, smiling. "I'll be sure the lights are out before we leave."

"Good night, Mrs. Hudson," said Puck.

"Good night, gentlemen," she said, and she turned off the hall light as she disappeared upstairs.

"Well, that was kind of her," Kurt said, looking at Finn.

"Wow, dude – your mom is beyond awesome," said Puck, taking Kurt's feet and pulling them out so Kurt's legs ended in his lap. Kurt backed up so he was lying in Finn's lap, facing Puck at the other end of the couch. Puck began to rub Kurt's feet, and he sighed with contentment.

Finn felt a little dazed, but he wrapped his arms around Kurt from behind, hugging him tightly. "I guess this is – okay," he said, amazed. "That was a lot easier than I expected."

"I expect it will get harder," said Kurt, "but right now it feels pretty easy."

"Yeah," said Puck. "Next is Burt, and my mom. And Glee."

"Um." Kurt said. "I… told Mercedes. About Finn."

"Yeah?" Finn smiled nervously. "Does – she want to kill me?"

"Not unless you hurt me," said Kurt. "I think she thought I was crazy at first, but it'll be okay. Puck, she knows you know, but not anything other than that. I might… tell her soon, though."

Finn yawned then, suddenly exhausted. "Can we tuck you into bed?" Kurt said, and it was _not_ an invitation, but Finn felt his cock twitch anyway.

"Sure," he said. They followed him upstairs. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and when he came back out he found Kurt and Puck making out on his bed.

"Dudes," he said, stretching, "you're gorgeous, but I'm tired. Get off of there."

They moved quickly to obey, grinning at each other. Kurt turned down the bed and Finn climbed in, then Puck pulled the covers up over his shoulders. He touched Finn's cheek gently and smiled. "Nice," he said.

"What?" said Finn, nearly asleep.

"Just remembering something." He bent down and kissed him gently, then Kurt came over and did the same. "Good night."

"'Night," said Finn, letting his eyes fall shut, feeling more comfortable than he had in a long time. "Love you guys."

"Love you, too," said Kurt, with Puck's arm around him, and closed Finn's door.

* * *

><p>Kurt drove Puck back to his house. He was surprised to discover how close Puck's house was to Finn's. "You guys spent a lot of time playing together when you were kids?" Kurt asked. Puck nodded.<p>

"Finn's mom was working nights then, so at least once a week he would eat dinner at my house and spend the night."

Kurt hesitated. "Did you guys ever – you know?" he asked.

"Mess around?" said Puck, and Kurt blushed needlessly. "I don't think so. I mean, I'm guessing I'd remember, right? We'll have to ask Finn tomorrow if he remembers anything."

"Are there a lot of things about your childhood you don't remember?" Kurt asked, and his question was mild, but Puck heard the concern in his voice.

"Yeah," said Puck. "Kind of a lot."

Kurt stepped into Puck's personal space. "You'll tell me all about that, later."

Puck opened and closed his mouth, and Kurt pushed him into the house, shutting the door behind him. Puck fumbled for the kitchen light, swearing, and Kurt claimed his mouth before he could turn it on.

"Oh –" said Puck, and made a hungry noise. Kurt laved his mouth with his tongue and held Puck's head still while he kissed him breathless. He ran his hands over Puck's head, down his neck, and around his broad shoulders, making sounds of approval.

"Your body makes me so hot," said Kurt, and it was so dirty, said in Kurt's sweet voice, that Puck nearly lost it. He rubbed helplessly up against Kurt's slim frame, feeling each other's heat, their need. Their arms twined around each other's hips and they danced like that in the dark, slow, grinding, to the music in their heads.

"I'd love to take you dancing sometime," said Kurt, "show you off." He pulled Puck's shirt up over his head. "Dress you up in leather," he went on, and Puck was panting, hanging on Kurt's words. "Let everyone get a good look at you, that perfect ass." He unbuttoned Puck's jeans and slid his hands down along his thighs to squeeze Puck's cheeks. He moaned. "You would like that, wouldn't you, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," he said, and moaned again. Kurt's hand came up to grab his jaw, his neck, and hold him still.

"Yes, what, Noah?" whispered Kurt.

"Yes, _please, _sir," he said, desperately. "I need it."

"Yes, you do," said Kurt, smiling. He bit Puck on the ear, and Puck came apart, nonsensically babbling appreciation to Kurt. Kurt enjoyed it for a minute, then put a hand over his mouth. "Hush, now," he said, and Puck was silent.

"Noah?" said a voice, and the hallway light snapped on. Sarah stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She was wearing a pair of Hello Kitty pajamas. She stopped when she saw Kurt and Puck and looked away at their dishabille.

"Hi, Kurt," she said.

"Hi, Sarah," he said. "Your brother's a little tired. I'm going to put him to bed, then I'll be heading out."

"Oh. Okay." She opened the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk. "You can stay if you want," she said, after a minute.

"Um," Kurt said. "I think I need to get home. My dad would be pretty annoyed if I didn't make it home before my curfew."

"Okay," she said again. "See you again soon?"

"Yeah," he said. "You bet."

She touched his arm, suddenly. "You make him really happy, Kurt," she said, solemnly. "He doesn't find that very easily." Then she disappeared back down the hall. The light snapped off. Puck was still silent, watching Kurt with wary eyes.

"Come on," Kurt said. "I'm going to take care of you."

Kurt pushed him ahead of him up the stairs to Puck's bedroom, which was pretty much the way they'd left it that morning. He closed the door behind him and guided Puck to the bed, where he sat down with him.

"You need… discipline," he said, "for your actions earlier." He ran a gentle hand down Puck's bare back. Puck shivered.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to give you what you need."

"Yes, sir," he breathed.

Kurt pulled him down onto his lap. "Come here and lean over my knees," he said, and Puck seemed to know what he meant, because he pulled his jeans down, just enough, so his bare ass stuck up in the air, round and perfect. Then he placed himself over Kurt's legs.

"Relax," said Kurt, and Puck did, putting his head down on the bed. "That's right," he said, and Puck basked in his praise, even as he began to spank his bare bottom, gently, lovingly, but relentlessly. What began as a mild tingle began to build, as the spot on Puck's ass grew pinker and pinker, and more and more sensitive, but the swats went on, gentle, neverending. Puck made noises, and Kurt approved of them all. Kurt watched Puck as he dropped further and further into a suspended state, floating on sensation, until he stopped altogether.

"You're such a good boy," he said, pulling Puck's jeans back up over his red, raw ass, and helped Puck into a sitting position on his lap. "Come here." He put his arms around Puck again, and held him close as tears began to fall.

"Thank you," Puck murmured when he was done crying. "I needed that."

"That was… something else," said Kurt. He felt reluctant to pull away from Puck, as though the web they'd build tonight might snap if they parted, but eventually he helped him lie down on the bed and covered him up, as they had done for Finn. He kissed him and stood to go. Puck's hand came out from under the covers and closed over Kurt's, strong, desperate.

"Please don't go," he said. "I need you, Kurt."

Kurt's heart hurt. "I have to, Noah."

"Call me sweetheart," he begged.

"I love you, sweetheart," Kurt whispered. "I'll be thinking of you."

"Come back to me tomorrow," he said, letting Kurt's hand go.

"I'll – I'll try."

"I'll sing you a song, just for you," he murmured, eyes closing.

Kurt turned away, hurried down the stairs, through the dark kitchen, to his car waiting in the driveway, and it wasn't until he was safely inside that he let the tears flow, let his sobs come, racking his body, wringing him dry. It felt so good to let it happen, to let go. He wasn't exactly sure who he was crying for. It might have been for the little boy in Noah who needed to be disciplined, but he thought rather it might be for the one in himself that was afraid to admit what he needed.

* * *

><p><span>Now: Monday Morning<span>

It seemed like an eternity from Saturday night until Monday morning, but family activities and homework and the pull of their regular lives kept Kurt, Finn and Puck apart until school began. Finn found himself sending sappy little texts to Kurt throughout breakfast. His mother watched him, anxiously smiling.

"What's it going to be like today?" she wondered aloud.

"Hard," he said. "Lonely. Sneaky."

"Hopeful," she said. "Strong. Resilient."

"I'm scared," he admitted.

"You wouldn't be human if you weren't," she said, and she kissed him on the top of his head, which was much easier for her to reach when he was sitting.

Kurt's last text said for Finn to meet him in the auditorium, behind the stage. He poked his head out from behind the wings and said, "Hello?" He heard his voice echo in the empty room. No one was there.

Then, suddenly, he was, looking shy and so desirable that Finn nearly reached out for him. But Kurt looked around, then shook his head, and Finn retreated. "Hey," he said softly.

"How was your weekend?" Kurt teased. Finn blew out a breath.

"I think I'll have to wait to give you the answer to that one."

"I missed you yesterday," Kurt said. "And Noah."

"Shh," said Finn, looking around again. Kurt twitched a lip and shrugged.

"People would see us making out and think he was beating me up," he said, and Finn busted up laughing, because he was probably right. It wasn't funny at all, but it was easier to laugh than to do anything else.

"God, I love you," he said, and there was a surprised sound behind Kurt, and Mercedes stepped out of the shadows.

"Hi, Mercedes," said Kurt, his cheeks flaming.

"Hi," said Finn, with a little smile. She looked at him curiously.

"You're not one of those pod people, are you, Finn?" she said, and he laughed. "You ain't gonna suddenly turn out to be straight after all? 'Cause if you break my boy's heart, I'm gonna come after you. And I ain't so nice."

"You love him, too," he said, and she nodded. "I wouldn't do anything to harm him. He's – he's amazing." He held out a hand, and Kurt took it, briefly, then dropped it, looking down.

"We need you guys to come to the choir room now," she said.

"Why?" said Finn.

Kurt slipped an arm around her. "Because we have something to give you. And Quinn."

"Is there a cake?" he grinned.

"Maybe some donuts," said Kurt, and put a casual arm around his shoulders.

They met Quinn on the way in, being led in much the same way. "Do you know what's going on?" she said, and he shook his head. The entire Glee club was waiting for them, with two chairs in the front of the room. Puck and Kurt were in the front, standing, just waiting.

"We have a ballad for you," said Kurt. "This is from all of us, because we know you've both gone through a lot recently, and we just wanted you to know… how we feel about you." Kurt's eyes gleamed at Finn. Mercedes watched him with compassion. Puck did not look at him, except indirectly, but Finn felt his attention anyway. He felt exposed, up here in the front. He glanced at Quinn.

"What are you going to sing?" asked Finn.

"Just listen," said Rachel, gently. "The song says everything."

They began to sway as Artie took the lead:

_Sometimes in our lives_

_We all have pain_

_We all have sorrow_

_But if we are wise_

_We know that there's always tomorrow_

Mercedes joined in on the chorus:

_Lean on me, when you're not strong_

_And I'll be your friend_

_I'll help you carry on_

_For it won't be long_

_'Til I'm gonna need_

_Somebody to lean on_

Finn felt a smile open on his face. He knew they didn't know about him – but they cared, anyway. They would be there when he needed them. He could depend on them, just as he depended on Kurt, and Puck. He looked at Quinn and saw her smiling, too. It was going to be all right.

_Please swallow your pride_

_If I have things you need to borrow_

_For no one can fill those of your needs_

_That you won't let show_

Kurt was taking special advantage of the performance opportunity to tease and torment him, but when he came up to the side of the group and made a little "call me" gesture, Finn lost his cool for just a moment. _Yeah, you can bet I'll be calling you,_ he thought.

Then he caught sight of Puck's eyes on him for the first time, and his breath caught. Even if they weren't able to be together at school, he knew they were both still there, watching, loving him, and that was enough.

_You just call on me brother, when you need a hand _

_We all need somebody to lean on_

_I just might have a problem that you'd understand_

_We all need somebody to lean on_

It was a gift, from Mercedes, to let him know he was accepted, and from Kurt, to thank him for all the things he'd done and given him. It was from Artie and Brittany and all the others who had no idea, but who would be there for him when he was ready to ask for their help. And it was for Quinn, too, to let her know she wasn't alone. Their friends pulled them out of their chairs and into the group of shouting, singing Glee voices, and embraced them.

He felt Puck's hand on the small of his back. "Lean on me," he said into Finn's ear, and Finn shivered, returning a little pressure, and he smiled.

* * *

><p>"Lean on Me" copyright by Bill Withers.<p>

www dot rickey dot org slash glee-ballad-gleecap-video


End file.
